


Questioning?

by ithinktoomuch4438



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam, Car Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Dean Winchester is Nineteen Years Old, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Frottage, Gay Sex, Homophobic John Winchester, LGBTQ, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Queer Sam Winchester, Questioning Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is Fifteen Years Old, Sexuality Crisis, Underage Drinking, Wincest End Game, gay slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:18:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinktoomuch4438/pseuds/ithinktoomuch4438
Summary: This morning had to have been the fiftieth time that he’d dreamed about being with a guy, and the whole thing was starting to unnerve him. He knew that dreams didn’t necessarily mean anything, but there was something about waking up to a raging hard-on or tacky boxers after dreaming about a cock against his ass that put him off.





	1. Wet Dreams and Magazines

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So this little plot bunny has been nagging at my brain for awhile now, and I finally decided to write it out and see where it takes me. Hope you enjoy, and as always, I own nothing except my own original characters. All other rights belong to Kripke and the CW.

_He could feel a tongue on his neck. There was hot breath in his ear and warm, soft lips on his pulse point and God, his cock could hammer nails, it was so hard. Hands, bigger than his, worn rough from calluses, wrapped around his wrists, pinning him onto his stomach, though he didn’t feel threatened. Whoever was holding him down, Sam trusted them. The lips moved up to his ear, teeth nibbling at his lobe, and Sam couldn’t hold back the small groan that bubbled up from his chest. A weight settled on his back, comforting instead of smothering, and started to guide his body into a slow, steady roll. Delicious friction rubbed against his cock when the weight rocked him forward, and he let out another moan as he rocked back into the throbbing cock that kept brushing his hole-_

Sam jolted awake, his eyes flying open and his breath leaving him in a gasp. There was no weight over him, no lips on his neck, and no cock against his ass, though his own cock was throbbing painfully where it was trapped between his belly and the mattress. His back was soaked in sweat, and there was a heat in his face that wouldn’t go away. Quickly, his gaze darted around the dingy hotel room, and he was relieved to find that he was alone; their dad had stayed in another room, and Dean’s bed was vacant, the covers shoved into a rumpled heap near the edge of the mattress. He let out a groan and dropped his face back against the pillow, debating rubbing against the mattress to get off before getting up, but a voice behind him made him yelp and roll over in shock.

“Sweet dreams, Sammy?” Dean asked, and when Sam turned over Dean was grinning, standing in the doorway to the bathroom with his toothbrush in his hand and a knowing glint in his eyes, “You’ve been making happy noises all morning.”

Sam couldn’t manage a coherent response, his cheeks flaming as Deans eyes fell to where he was tenting the thin motel sheets.

“Damn, Sammy, gonna poke a hole in the mattress if you’re not careful. Who were you dreamin’ about?”

Again, Sam didn’t speak, simply rolled out of bed and tugged his t-shirt down as far as it would go as he grabbed his bag, shouldering his way past Dean into the bathroom.

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. Was it Kate Winslet? Anna Nicole?” Dean paused, giving Sam a teasing smirk, “Justine Timberlake?”

Sam slammed the bathroom door as hard as he could, and the sound of his brother’s laughter was drowned out in the rattle of the shower pipes as Sam ducked under the cold spray.

**********************

John was waiting in the car when Sam and Dean left their motel room with their bags. The car was packed up already, and Sam had no doubt that they were checked out, their rooms billed to another fraudulent credit card. He tossed his bag into the back seat and slid in next to it, for once not arguing with Dean over shotgun. Between the dream and the icy shower this morning, Sam was in no mood to deal with his brother’s antics.

“You boys ready?” Their dad asked, starting the car before either of them could answer. They pulled out of the motel parking lot and started towards the interstate, a Metallica tape blaring loud as ever out of the cars speakers.

Sam let his head rest against the window, wishing he could go back to sleep but too scared of the dreams he’d have if he did. This morning had to have been the fiftieth time that he’d dreamed about being with a guy, and the whole thing was starting to unnerve him. He knew that dreams didn’t necessarily mean anything, but there was something about waking up to a raging hard-on or tacky boxers after dreaming about a cock against his ass that put him off. He’d tried everything to make them stop, but even fantasizing about guys during the day didn’t help the dreams go away, though it wasn’t for Sam’s lack of imagination. To make matters worse, Dean was starting to catch on to his constantly horny state of mind, and was taking every opportunity to tease Sam about it. Which, yeah, he expected Dean to do that at this point, and if he was just dreaming about girls it wouldn’t even bother him that much; but the dreams, and the subjects of the dreams, were a touchy subject, one Sam desperately wanted to shove under the metaphorical rug and avoid completely, so Dean’s constant jabs were less than welcome.

They were driving a long haul today, leaving a haunting just outside of Jackson, Mississippi to chase a lead somewhere in the middle of Kentucky, which meant they had over ten hours of nothing but open road ahead of them. It wasn’t the worst drive they’d ever made, but eleven hours was a long time to sit in a car without anything to do, and Sam found himself dosing despite his best efforts before they’d even crossed the state border. With several nights of restless sleep making his head throb and the rumble of the Impala as it ate up miles of highway acting as his own personal lullaby, Sam didn’t have a chance.

_Arms holding him down again, this time flat on his back, and the stranger’s eager lips pressed against his own, a tongue flicking between them teasingly. His hips thrust up uselessly against open air, but suddenly there was a weight holding them down, the stranger straddling his lap. A rigid line of heat rubbed against his cock and he knew instantly this was no woman on top of him, no soft, warm pussy trying to sheath him. The strangers cock rubbed against his again and Sam hissed at the sparks of pleasure that shot down his spine. Suddenly the lips were gone from his and the stranger was moving, sliding down Sam’s torso to tongue at the space under his belly button. Sam looked down at him, wanting to watch, but the man’s face was blurred, the only discernable features being his full lips and his light brown hair. Still, his features were eerily familiar in a way that Sam couldn’t quite place. The stranger took Sam’s cock in his mouth, then, and Sam closed his eyes, forgetting everything else as pleasure lit a fire in his stomach and-_

“Sam!”

“Wha-?” Sam gasped, sitting up too fast and smacking his head against the inner edge of the Impala’s door, “Ow! Shit…” He swore, rubbing his head as he looked around for the source of the noise. The front passenger door was open, and Dean was sitting sideways in the seat, legs sprawling out of the car and his right arm resting on the top of the seatback as he quirked an eyebrow at his younger brother.

“Dude, I know you can’t help it much, but try to keep the pervy dreams to a minimum when we’re all in the car, okay?” Dean said, tossing Sam a rumbled ten-dollar bill, “Dad just filled up, said we have half an hour to piss and grab some food before he wants to be back on the road.” With that, Dean stood and shut the car door, and Sam watched him through the window as he wandered towards the entrance of the rundown truck stop John had chosen for their pit stop. Sam groaned and leaned back in the seat, staring angrily down at his lap. He hadn’t come in his jeans, thankfully, but there was a small dark spot where pre-ejaculate had leaked through his boxers and dampened the denim, right at the peak of the small tent his cock had made in the fabric. Cursing softly, Sam searched through his bag until he found a sweatshirt, then climbed out of the car and tied it around his waist to hide his hard-on while he followed Dean into the truck stop.

He spotted his brother and dad parked at a table in the stops small restaurant- could a counter that served lukewarm pizza, questionable looking hot dogs, and cold subs be considered a restaurant? - and he waved at them to get their attention, motioning for them to give him five minutes before he ducked into the men’s room. After making sure the bathroom was empty and locking himself in a stall, Sam glanced between the toilet and his dick. There was no way he would be able to piss when he was this hard, and after having two sex dreams in one day, maybe it would be better to just clean the pipes and get it over with. He leaned back against the stall door and unzipped his fly, wrapping his right hand around his cock while he stuffed his left fist into his mouth to block out any noise. He tried to think only about women this time, but images of full breasts and dripping pussies quickly morphed into ones of firm, flat chests and throbbing cocks. Eventually, Sam gave in, letting his mind wander back to the mystery man in his dreams. In less than a minute, he was coming, biting down hard on his knuckles to keep from making a sound as come spurted from his cock to land in messy streaks in the toilet.

Hormones no longer ravaging his body and brain, Sam relieved his bladder and zipped up, splashing cold water on his face after he’d washed his hands to get rid of the flush in his cheeks. He left the bathroom and bought a sub at the ‘restaurant’, then took a seat next to his brother, pointedly ignoring Deans knowing grin. He’d gotten a third of the way through his sandwich when the silence at the table was finally broken.

“So, what are we hunting this time?” Dean asked their dad around bites of pizza. “Ghost? Witch? Some weird Appalachian Mountain monster?” Dean chuckled, “Did you find another werewolf? Cause the last one we hunted was kinda fun.” Sam frowned and nudged Dean’s ribs with his elbow, glancing around the truck stop to emphasize that they were surrounded by civilians. Okay, so there was only the sleepy woman working the counter and one other heavy-set guy scarfing down nachos a few tables away, but still. Dean didn’t need to be so damn loud.

John cleared his throat, and Sam’s attention snapped to their father, already knowing what he was going to say by the look on Johns face. “Actually, you boys aren’t coming along on this one.” He said, “A buddy of mine hooked me up with a cheap rental house in Ewing, Kentucky. It’s a small, quiet town, just over an hour outside of Lexington. You boys will be fine there while I check out a few leads.”

While Sam wasn’t surprised at all by this news, Dean’s obvious shock and irritation showed on his face. “What the hell, dad? You’re sidelining us again?” He snapped, “I mean, I get why Sam shouldn’t come on some of these hunts, but I’m almost twenty years old! Whatever leads you have, I can handle them!”  
“Dean, the issue isn’t your age. The leads I’m checking out, they could put me in some dangerous situations, and I don’t want you boys getting involved.” John’s tone was stern, final, so Sam was surprised when Dean continued to argue.

“Dangerous situations? Two days ago, there was a vengeful spirit choking me out and throwing Sam against a wall! What do you call that, a pillow fight?”

“Dean!” John snapped, and Sam’s gaze fell to his sandwich on instinct, his shoulders slumping. He saw Dean adopt the same posture out of the corner of his eye. The discussion was over; neither one of them would dare push the issue by continuing to argue. Sam looked up nervously when John picked up his sub to take another bite, and resumed picking at his own lunch a moment later.

“You said you rented a house?” Sam asked, watching his dad carefully to see if this would start another fight, “That means you’re gonna be gone for a while, right?”

John didn’t try to lie, “A month or two, maybe more.” He admitted, “Though I’m not leaving right away. I gotta stock up on supplies, and I’ll get Dean a job in town when I enroll you in the local school. I’m paying the rent ahead of time, but you boys will be needing money for food.”

Sam tried to ignore Dean steaming next to him and didn’t bother reminding their dad that the school year had started three weeks ago. He was already ahead of the curriculum anyway. “Anything you need us to do?” He asked.

John sighed. “Keep each other safe, keep up on your training. And for God’s sake, stay out of trouble.” He chastised, leveling his gaze at Dean. “Don’t expect me to come running to bail you out of jail if you get caught drinking or doing something stupid.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sam and Dean spoke at the same time, though Sam noticed a particular harshness in Dean’s tone.

“Good.” John balled up his sandwich wrapper, standing from the table. “I’m gonna hit the head. You boys finish up and grab some snacks if you want ‘em. We’re leaving in ten.” Sam swallowed another couple of bites of his sandwich as their dad walked away, then wrapped up the rest for later. He wasn’t really hungry now, but their dad had a thing about wasting food.

“Wanna grab some chips?” Sam asked Dean, though the look Dean gave him said that he should get lost, fast, “Okay, find me when you’re done.” He muttered, sliding out of the booth and moving to wander through the aisles of car accessories, junk food, and tourist crap. Sam browsed most of the store with disinterest, but when he passed by a wall of magazines near the back of the store, he paused. Most of the magazines were pretty typical, celebrity tabloids mixed in with popular jerk off material like Sports Illustrated, or Playboy or, Deans favorite, Busty Asian Beauties. But half hidden on a shelf behind all that, Sam spotted a glossy picture of a nearly naked man spread out on a white bedsheet, the bold black lettering surrounding him promising scandalizing images inside. Sam glanced behind himself briefly, then picked up the magazine, starting to flip through it. His eyes widened as he took in image after image of men spread out in various positions, some stroking and sucking Coke-can sized cocks while others were bent over with various objects and appendages stuffed into their ass. It was by far the obscenest magazine Sam had ever seen, and he wondered for a moment if this was what he needed. Just thinking about guys hadn’t been enough, but maybe looking at real gay porn was what he needed for his brain to give it a rest with the gay sex dreams, and then he could move on with his life, crisis about his sexuality averted. Dean had told him that girls he’d been with had sometimes watched lesbian porn for fun, and this wasn’t really any different, right? It didn’t mean anything.

“Sammy! Get a move on, dad’s waiting!”

Sam’s head snapped up at the sound of his brother’s voice, and he thanked whatever God was listening that Dean wasn’t around to see what he was looking at. Knowing he couldn’t buy it and risk Dean or their dad finding out, Sam slipped the magazine under his t-shirt, taking the hoodie from around his waist and putting it on, zipping it up to let the bulk of the fabric hide the slight bulge of the magazine.

“Sammy!” Dean called again, his tone obviously irritated.

“I’m coming!” Sam responded, walking around a shelf of canned goods and spotting his brother waiting by the door. He held his breath as they left the store, expecting an angry employee to come chase them down any minute and expose Sam’s secret to the whole parking lot. They got in the car and drove off without incident, however, and Sam finally started breathing again when they hit the interstate. He relaxed back into the seat with a sigh, sliding his bag to the floor between his feet and waiting until his brother and father were distracted before slipping the magazine silently into his duffel.


	2. Awkward Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but I promise we'll be getting to the meat of the story soon! As usual, I own nothing but my original characters, all other rights belong to Kripke and the CW.

They’d gotten a late start getting on the road, and between that and the massive traffic jams they’d hit in Tennessee, it was already just after dusk when the Impala pulled up in front of the house John had rented. It was decent, as far as houses go; a squat single-story home with faded green shutters and old brown siding. Weeds had grown up around the porch and along the side of the house, but other than that it looked in good condition. No broken windows, no leaky roof, and Sam could see an air conditioning unit humming next to a concrete tool shed around the side of the house, which meant they weren’t likely to sweat to death in the muggy southern air. The house was a little over two miles outside of town, which would make walking to and from school a bitch, but it also meant there would be no neighbors spying on them and wondering why two teenage boys seemed to be living alone with no parent in sight. All told, Sam was sort of impressed with the place. It was certainly an upgrade from the usual by-the-hour motels that they stayed at.

John was the first out of the car after he’d cut the engine, letting out a groan as he stretched his back. “Alright, let’s get unpacked so we can rustle up some grub. Earl said he’d stock the kitchen with some canned goods in case we got in too late to hit the store, so let’s hope he remembered.”

Sam cracked open his door and stretched his legs out, wincing as his muscles threatened to cramp after being jammed in one position for so long. He grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, standing up and starting to walk into the house. He stopped when he heard and felt something slide out onto the gravel drive, and was horrified to see that his stolen magazine had fallen out of his bag. He snatched it up before either his dad or brother could catch a glimpse of the cover, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid attention all together.

“Oh, what have we here?” Dean asked, exhausted expression instantly replaced with a shit-eating grin. “Is that a dirty magazine, Sammy?”

“No!” Sam protested, though the dark blush on his cheeks gave him away. Dean just laughed.

“Oh my god, it totally is! Let me see it!” He rolled his eyes when Sam folded the magazine and tucked it back into his bag, holding his hand out and stepping into Sam’s space, “Come on, baby boy, show me what you got! I wanna know what turns Sammy’s crank!” He tried to reach for Sam’s bag, but Sam fought him off, shoving Dean away and twisting so his back was to his brother, lifting the bag to clutch it to his chest.

“No, Dean, back off! It’s none of your business, just leave me alone!” Sam swatted back at his brother, yelling louder when Dean trapped him in a headlock and pinched at his side. He tried to throw Dean off, but he didn’t have the right angle, and before Sam knew it Dean’s hand was wriggling against his chest, slipping into the opening in his bag and shit, he had the corner of the magazine, he was going to find out, no one could find out-

“Boys!” Johns voice reverberated through the yard as he shoved Sam and Dean apart, giving a firm glare to each of them. “Knock it off. Sam, grab your and your brothers stuff and go inside. Dean, help me grab the rest of the gear.”

Sam barely spared his brother a glance as he gathered up the rest of their bags and headed towards the house. He caught snippets of their dad reprimanding Dean for teasing him and for this ‘new attitude of his’, but Sam didn’t stick around to listen. He unlocked the door and slipped into their temporary home, letting out a grateful sigh when the cool air washed over him, a welcome relief from the swampy atmosphere outside. The inside of the house was about as underwhelming as the outside, but it was clean and nothing seemed to be broken. Sam glanced around the shabby looking front room, which seemed to serve as living room, kitchen, and dining room all at once. Worn beige carpet covered the right half of the room, which contained an old T.V., a forest green couch and matching armchair, and a watermarked coffee table. The left half of the room was covered in a yellowed vinyl flooring with a hideous floral pattern, and had a round old kitchen table and chairs set close to the door, while the back half of the room was taken up by an L-shaped row of cabinets broken up only by the stove and fridge and an island countertop. The Formica covered counters in the kitchen were a pale yellow as well, and Sam couldn’t decide if that was their normal color or if they had once been white. The cabinets and the dining table were both made of maple colored wood, though they were all nicked and scratched from years of rough use. Straight ahead from the front door was a short hallway, also carpeted in the same dull beige, and Sam could see four doors down it, two on the left and two on the right. Upon further investigation, he found that the two doors on the left led to a bathroom and a laundry/mud-room leading through to the back door, respectively. The two on the right were both bedrooms, the first one with a queen-sized bed and the second, larger one with two doubles shoved into opposite corners. Sam dragged their bags into the second room, dumping Deans stuff on the bed to the right that shared a wall with their dad’s room while he claimed the one to the left that sat under a window looking out into the overgrown backyard. Let his brother deal with the heat if the air conditioning broke; it would serve him right.

Sam busied himself with unpacking his bags, taking care to hide the swiped magazine on the top shelf of the rooms small closet before Dean went looking for it again. He heard his dad and brother come into the house, both uncharacteristically quiet, but since he wasn’t being bothered, Sam decided not to go looking for trouble. Dean didn’t come into their room, and after about an hour the familiar scent of canned chili being reheated started to waft through the house. Apparently, Earl had remembered to leave them food after all. Once he’d meticulously unpacked every one of his belongings, Sam laid back on his bed, examining the pale blue walls and blue painted wooden furniture as he waited to be called for dinner. Expecting a shout from down the hall, Sam looked up in surprise when a few minutes later, there was a knock on his door.

John cracked the door, peering cautiously into the room like he feared what he’d find, but his face relaxed into a gentle smile when his gaze landed on Sam. “Hey, son. Can I come in?” He asked, and Sam nodded, sitting up and frowning when John shut the door behind him.

“What’s up?” He asked, body tensing just by nature of being alone with his father. He loved his dad, of course, but they hadn’t really gotten along well in the past couple years, and ended up fighting more often than not. Dean and John had always gotten along perfectly well, which was probably why the whole day had left Sam feeling a little off center. It was rare for John to argue with Dean more than he did with Sam.

John stuffed his hands in his pockets, and suddenly he looked…. awkward. Like whatever he was about to say embarrassed the living hell out of him. “I uh, I talked to your brother.” He began, “About earlier. Explained to him that you’re growing up now, becoming a man, and that a man’s private…. reading material,” John cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening, “Is something that should be respected. There’s not much privacy in this life, so you two need to be respectful of what little you have. He won’t be going through your bag without express permission from you, and I expect that you’ll be giving him the same respect.”

Sam felt his face flush all the way up to his ears, but he nodded along to Johns words, wondering if it was possible for the mattress to just swallow him whole right now. “Yes, sir.” He muttered. Of course his dad had to choose today, of all days, to give him the ‘it’s normal to look at porn’ speech. Sam sort of wished that John had caught him when he’d swiped a playboy from his dad’s bag years ago, because having this conversation then would have been far less painful than having it now, hours after he’d stolen gay porn.

“Now, you don’t gotta get all embarrassed about this,” John started, though the flush on his father’s cheeks told Sam that he wasn’t the only one feeling mortified, “It’s normal for boys your age to be curious about women and sex. Christ, I know when I was your age, I-“

“Dad!” Sam interrupted, because no way in hell was he going to sit here and listen to his dad talk about being a horny teenager.

John frowned, but didn’t try to continue his story. “All I’m saying is, despite your brothers teasing, what you’re going through is perfectly normal, so you shouldn’t let Dean get under your skin. We’ve all been there.”

Sam thought back to his dream earlier, and to his fantasies about a guy sucking his cock. He doubted his father would be giving this same compassionate speech if he knew his son was more focused on men than women. “Thanks, dad.”

John nodded curtly, seemingly glad to be done with that part of the conversation. “Now, one more thing,” He began, and Sam tried not to wither from embarrassment. “I understand that you’re still young and some things might be embarrassing to you, despite them being normal,” Right, cause his dad was handling this situation so smoothly, “But I know I didn’t buy any magazines recently, and from the change you gave me after lunch, you didn’t either.”

Sam bit his lip, guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry, sir.” He mumbled, not bothering to explain himself. What could he say, anyway? That he would have had Dean buy it, or just bought it himself, except for that the magazine was filled with naked men instead of naked women, and he didn’t want his obnoxious big brother and his homophobic dad finding out that he might be into guys?

“You’re not in trouble, this time.” John said, and Sam thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t need to come up with a lie about why he stole what he did. “But I don’t want you doing that again. We all know that sometimes it’s necessary for hunters to steal for survival, but porn isn’t something that you’ll die without, so next time you better find a way to pay for it the honest way, or you won’t like what happens.”

Sam doubted he would like what happened no matter what, but he didn’t dare say so. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” He promised.

John smiled and nodded. “Good.” He said, and Sam knew that the conversation was finally, finally over. “Chili’s on the stove, so come get it while it’s hot.”

Sam followed his father out of the room and into the kitchen, where he heaped a ladle full of chili into a bowl. No one spoke for the entirety of the meal, all three men too thoroughly put off from talking after the conversations earlier in the evening. After the dishes had been cleaned and John had tossed back a nightcap or two before collapsing on his bed, Sam and Dean took turns their turns in the bathroom and mumbled a good night to each other, turning off their bedroom light before they each crawled under the covers. Sam wasn’t sure that he’d be able to sleep after a day of mostly sitting still in the car, but the miles of highway driving and hours of obsessing over his unconscious thoughts had exhausted him more than he’d expected. Within minutes, Sam’s eyes had drifted shut, and he fell into a deep, restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it! Let me know what you thought, and keep an eye out for chapter three!


	3. Slurs and Angry Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am slapping a big TRIGGER WARNING on this chapter just to be safe. Homophobic slurs are used in this chapter, so if that's something that will trigger you, read at your own risk. Be safe, dears.

_Sam was on top of someone, his knees straddling thin hips while his hands rested against a well-muscled chest A man, the stranger from before. He was kissing the man under him, and though the strangers face was still blurred, the lips felt familiar, as did the hands sliding up and down his thighs. Sam sighed happily into the man’s mouth, rocking his hips forward and then back, rubbing his hole over the stranger’s throbbing cock. The man beneath him let out a rumbling moan, and Sam repeated the action, liking the way it made his own cock twitch and leak. The hands on his thighs slid up to grip his hips, and the stranger beneath him grinned as he guided Sam into a steady rhythm._

_“That’s it, Sammy,” The stranger encouraged, and his voice sounded familiar, too. Warm and deep and rough, like whiskey and gravel. “Come on, baby boy, show me what you got.”_

_Sam gasped and looked down just as the stranger’s face cleared, and he realized it was Dean beneath him, Dean’s cock rocking up against his hole, Deans hand now sliding up to wrap around Sam’s cock, stroking him slowly. The shock of it all did Sam in, and he came hard and sudden, spurting over his brother’s chest just as everything went dark._

Sam woke unusually slow; typically, either his dad or his brother would be shaking him awake, telling him to get a move on so he could get to school or the library or so they could leave for another job. But today, with no hunt pressing his family forward and no school to go to, he got to sleep in. Sam finally blinked his eyes open close to noon, according to the clock next to his bed, though he had to close them again almost immediately when the September sun shining into his room threatened to blind him. He yawned and stretched, sitting up after a moment to look around his new room, but the movement alerted him to the mess in his underwear, and the dream that had caused it came rushing back to him all at once. He groaned, falling back onto the bed and rubbing at his face. Sam had dreamed about Dean before, truthfully more than he’d like to admit, in the months since he’d started thinking about men _that way_. He always brushed it off, figuring it was just a side effect of being in such close quarters, but with the dreams becoming more frequent, and more frequently about Dean, he wasn’t so sure anymore that the answer was that simple. Complicating things were the mix of emotions he’d started to feel lately towards his brother. One minute, he could just hit Dean for being so annoying, and the next Sam was a blushing mess with butterflies churning his stomach.

As Sam thought back over last night’s dream, trying to decide if it was something he should be worried about, his morning wood gave an eager twitch; apparently, last night’s unconscious activity hadn’t been enough to wear his body out. Sam remembered the magazine he’d swiped and hidden last night, and he bit his lip as he debated digging it out and having a go. Maybe he’d stop dreaming about Dean once he had some actual porn fueling his fantasies, and it would make this rare, slow morning even more of a treat. He decided against it a moment later, though, fully aware that Dean or his dad could walk in at any moment. There would be time later, when he was truly alone.

Sam stumbled sleepily out of bed and into the bathroom across the hall, relieving his bladder and washing his hands before he went in search of his family. The front room of the house was empty, the only evidence that anyone had been there the opened loaf of bread laying on the counter next to a toaster that had seen better days. The screen door was open, though, and Sam could hear music playing outside, so he decided to investigate.

Swampy heat hit his body like a punch when Sam stepped outside, and he wondered how their dad wasn’t pitching a fit about them wasting electricity letting out all the air conditioning. Sam looked around and quickly found the source of the music, Deans small portable radio that he’d set out on the porch. Sam looked up in search of his brother, squinting in the sunlight, and what he saw made him stop breathing. Dean was washing the Impala in the front yard, a beat-up yellow bucket full of suds at his feet and a large sponge in his hand. This was a pretty typical sight for Sam; what wasn’t typical was what Dean was wearing.

Dean was shirtless, freckled skin exposed to the sun, shoulders already looking a little red. Water mingled with sweat and dripped down his chest to his belly button, where the droplets got lost in the thin line of dark, wiry hair that trailed down into the waistband of his shorts. And the shorts…. not swim trunks or knee length khaki shorts, but homemade denim cut offs that Dean had cut too short, as they ended halfway down his thighs instead of at his knees. Sam knew they must have been crafted from an ancient pair of jeans, because they were snug, far tighter than Dean normally would wear, hugging his ass like a second skin and squeezing around his hips to bulge over his front, leaving practically nothing to the imagination. Sam’s mouth watered as his gaze followed the thick line of his brother’s cock beneath the denim, and there had to be something wrong with him because suddenly his morning wood, which had almost completely gone away, was throbbing, twitching where Sam had tucked it up between his stomach and the waistband of his boxers to hide it. Dean looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, grinning at him brightly. Sam’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he only hoped that Dean would brush it off as a side effect of the heat.

“Mornin’, Sunshine!” Dean called, throwing the sponge back into the bucket before moving to pick up the hose, and Sam nearly swallowed his tongue when water splashed up and dampened the front of Dean’s cut-offs, making them even more obscene. “Glad to see you’re back with the land of the living!”

Sam had to remind himself to breathe before he could respond. “Yeah, guess I was more tired than I thought.” He muttered back, not sure if Dean could hear him over the music. Apparently, Dean could, because he nodded and gave Sam another smile.

“No kidding, you were out cold and snoring like a bear when I woke up.” Dean teased, and it seemed like his brother’s foul mood from last night had officially dissolved, though Sam couldn’t figure out why. Not that he cared either way; if Dean was teasing him about his snoring, that meant he hadn’t been awake to hear Sam moaning during his dream.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Sam asked, a smirk of his own spreading across his face. He couldn’t help it; Deans moods were contagious.

Impossibly, Dean’s grin widened. “You’ll never guess what dad told me this morning, he said the car- “ Dean didn’t get to finish his sentence, though, because just then their dad pulled up in a huge black pick-up truck. The thing looked like it belonged on a battlefield instead of in the drive way of a crappy Kentucky cabin, with monster truck tires nearly as tall as Sam’s chest and a frame as wide as a bus. The horridly loud engine cut out with a click after a moment, and John hopped down from the driver’s side, smiling at Sam’s expression of shock.

“You like it?” John asked, shutting the front door and opening the backseat to grab out bags of groceries. “Guy in town gave me a good deal on it. It’ll be good on the job, too. Can drive over damn near any terrain, and gets better gas mileage than the Impala, if you can believe it.” At the mention of the car, John turned to look at Dean, though his face immediately turned sour. “Christ, Dean, put some damn clothes on! You look like a fuckin’ fag.”

Sam’s face drained, and his cock instantly shrived at the word. Their dad was oddly intolerant of sexualities for a hunter, though whether that had to do with him growing up in the mid-west in the fifties or with his history in the military, Sam wasn’t sure. Either way, it didn’t used bother Sam that much. Sure, it embarrassed him and annoyed him when his dad made comments in public, but he’d never really given much thought to it otherwise. That was just… how his dad was. Now, though, since he’d started dreaming regularly about having sex with men and had just yesterday swiped a magazine full of gay porn, the word made his stomach turn sour. If this wasn’t a phase, and he did turn out to be gay, then his father would never accept it.

Sam was yanked quickly and rudely from his thoughts by Dean’s response, his brother obviously less bothered by Johns comments than he was.

“It’s hot as balls out here, and there’s no one around for miles! I’m not gonna die of heat stroke just to protect your and Sammy’s delicate sensibilities.” Dean laughed and picked up the hose, then, spraying the soap suds off the Impala, and Sam turned to scurry back into the house, skipping breakfast in favor of retreating into the shower.

****************

As it turned out, Dean’s good mood was a direct result of John’s new purchase. Their dad had been handing the spare keys to the Impala over to Dean when Sam got out of the shower, and Dean proudly explained that the car was his now. Sam had been surprised by this development, but their dad claimed that with him being gone for so long, it was safer for him to leave Sam and Dean with a car, and since Dean loved the Impala so much, John had decided to keep the new truck for himself instead of giving it to his oldest. This rare display of John’s generosity left Dean in a positively chipper mood the whole day, so much so that he didn’t tease Sam once, not even when the finicky kitchen sink sprayed Sam in the face while he was trying to wash dishes.

Other than the unexpected hosing off Sam had gotten, the day was overall uneventful; Once groceries had been put away and breakfast was cleaned up, John had them go into town, allowing Dean to drive the Impala as the rightful owner for the first time. They got Sam enrolled in the local high school where he would start on Monday- the school secretary, who looked ancient and reeked of mothballs, insisted that there was no use in him starting school tomorrow, since it was a Thursday which was so awkward, dear, because that’s only one day from Friday and no work ever gets done on a Friday, dear- and John got Dean a job at the local hardware store, where he would fix the occasional lawnmower in between helping old ladies choose the right potting soil for their patio garden. After that, they’d headed back home, where John spent the rest of the day gathering up his supplies and packing the truck to leave the next morning. Truthfully, it was the most relaxing and normal day they’d spent as a family in years, and by the time the sun had neared the horizon and the sky had started to turn orange, Sam was ready to call it a pretty good day, weird dreams aside.

Of course, Sam could never be that lucky.

They’d decided to make B.L.T.’s for dinner, since John had remembered to buy some vegetables when he’d gone out earlier, and they so rarely had fresh produce in the house. Dean was frying up the bacon while Sam chopped up the tomatoes, and since Dean had discovered earlier in the day that this house came with cable, they had MTV playing in the background. There was an interview on with some musician who had gotten arrested last spring for having sex with a man in a public bathroom and was consequently outted as gay. The musician was explaining what had gone down to lead to the arrest when John came out of his bedroom, and immediately wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Ugh, turn that shit off. Don’t want to listen to some faggot describe how he likes to get off.”

Sam’s face flushed red at his dad’s words, though this time it was from anger, not shame. “Why do you have to say it like that? He’s just answering the interviewer’s questions.” He said, voice as tense as his body.

John rolled his eyes. “It’s disgusting, and I don’t want to listen to it! Fuckin’ queer deserves to be in prison after what he did, exposing himself like that in public.”

“It was a public bathroom, and it’s not any different than when people have sex at the bars you and Dean always go to. The only difference is that this was two guys.” Sam said, hand clenching around the kitchen knife as he tried to focus on not chopping off his fingers. John’s gaze turned irritated, edging towards angry.

“It is different, it’s obscene and disgusting! What those faggots do in the privacy of their own home is one thing, but they shouldn’t be subjecting everyone else to their grotesque lifestyle.”

Sam slammed the knife onto the counter, giving up on the now smooshed tomatoes. “You make it sound like being gay is the worst thing that could happen to a person!”

“It’s not the worst thing, but it’s pretty damn close!” John snapped, raising his voice, “It’s unnatural and disgusting!” The stove clicked as Dean turned off the burner, setting the bacon aside as he turned around and glanced between Sam and John.

“How the hell can you say that, when you know the real shit that’s out there?” Sam yelled, matching Johns tone, “I’d say that being gay isn’t all that bad, considering there are things out there that would happily rip out someone’s heart for a snack, or make a flesh-suit out of skinned children!”

“Hey, guys, come on, relax-“ Dean tried to interfere, but John yelled right over him.

“Well that doesn’t mean I want the media parading these fucking faggots around like they’re goddamn heroes!”

“Would you stop fucking saying that! At least gay people don’t act like they’re better than everyone else because of who they fuck!” Sam shrieked, not even waiting a breath before he was shoving past his dad, stomping down the hallway and out the back door.

Sam paced angrily around the yard for a moment, not sure what to do with himself, before he spotted an old baseball sitting on a pile of cinderblocks near the tool shed. He picked it up, whipping it against the concrete wall of the shed and catching it against his chest when it bounced back, only to throw it again, harder. Anger sat like lava in his gut, burned his veins like fire, and he couldn’t get the sound of his dad’s voice out of his head. How could John actually think that being gay was as bad as being a monster? It didn’t make sense to him. Monsters hurt people, they killed without discretion and left chaos and pain in their wake. Gay people just…. loved someone. That was it. They felt love and lust and other totally normal human emotions, but because those emotions were directed towards the wrong set of genitals, that made them evil? Sam didn’t buy it.

He wasn’t outside more than five minutes before he heard the screen door creak open and bang shut. Sam didn’t look away from the wall he was still throwing the baseball at, though he knew by instinct that it was Dean behind him.

“I’m not apologizing to him.” Sam said firmly, and he heard Dean sigh.

“What’s going on with you?” Dean asked, moving so he was standing next to Sam, within his line of sight. “I mean, I know dad’s not the most liberal guy, but you’ve never been bothered by what he says before.”

“It’s always bothered me.” Sam insisted, and it wasn’t a total lie. Not thinking about it didn’t mean it didn’t bug him. “I’m just tired of staying silent about it. He shouldn’t be saying those things.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “You can’t control what he says, Sam. It’s dad, and he’s gonna say whatever he pleases, no matter what you think.”

“You say that like you agree with him.” Sam snarled, throwing the ball with a bit too much force, the resounding smack it made against the concrete oddly satisfying to him.

“I don’t agree with him, but I don’t see what the big deal is, either. It’s just a word.”

“It’s a word that’s written on picket signs when bigots protest the funerals of innocent people. It’s a word that’s been used in hate crimes all over the country. It’s a word that can fucking terrify people because it lets them know that whoever said it thinks they’d be better off dead.” Sam said, voice flat.

Dean was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was strangely soft, careful. “Sammy, are…. are you?...”

“I’m not fucking gay!” Sam yelled, turning around and pitching the ball at Dean’s feet, the action making his brother spring back to avoid being hit, and for some reason that made Sam feel both satisfied and guilty. “I just don’t like that fucking word, alright?”

Dean’s eyebrows pulled together, and he frowned, the compassion on his face being replaced with anger. “What, faggot?” Dean asked, “Well get over yourself, princess, because dad’s not gonna stop using it any time soon. He’s gonna call every gay person he ever sees or hears about a fag, and so are a lot of other hunters and civilians, so get fucking used to it.”

Sam’s face flushed red when he heard the slur fall from Dean’s lips, and his fists clenched. Dean’s eyes shot down to Sam’s hands at the motion, eyes narrowing at the reaction, and, ever the big brother, Dean started to push it.

“What, you gonna wince every time someone says faggot? Gonna get beat up quick around these parts acting like that. Faggot. Faggot. Faggot.” Dean spat.

“Stop. Saying. That.” Sam ground out, nails biting into his palms hard enough to break the skin.

“Like I said, gotta get used to it, Sam. Faggot’s just a word, one you’re gonna hear a lot.” Dean stepped closer, getting into Sam’s space.

“I said- “

“Oh, I heard what you said, little brother. But what are you gonna do about it? You gonna act like a man, or like a little fucking fag- “

Dean didn’t finish that sentence, because Sam’s fist came up and connected with his brothers nose before he could. Dean stumbled back, hissing and sputtering as blood dripped down his face.

“OW! What the fuck, Sam?” Dean swore, pinching the bottom of his nose shut to try and stop the blood. Sam’s vision blurred as he watched his brother, and it took a minute for him to realize that it was because he was crying. Dean looked up at him, surprise and confusion clear on his face when he saw the tears streaking down Sam’s cheeks. “Sammy?”

Sam didn’t respond, just ran back into the house, letting the screen door clang shut in his wake. His dad didn’t call for him, though Sam wasn’t sure he would have responded if John had, and he ran straight into his and Dean’s room, slamming the door behind him and collapsing on his bed. He pressed his face into his pillow to muffle any tears, tightening his fists in the blanket beneath him despite the pain in his knuckles. He was used to hearing hateful slurs like that from his dad, but Dean…. Dean didn’t talk like that. He especially never talked like that to _Sam_. So, hearing those words come out of Deans mouth tonight, knowing that they were directed at him….it hurt. More than he would have expected. What if that was how Dean really felt? Sam knew that if he ever decided that he was gay for real, he’d lose John, probably for good. But he’d never really thought he’d lose Dean over it, too, and knowing that he might was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Dean was his best friend, his freaking hero, the person he loved and cared about most on the planet. Even when he was acting like a dick, Sam never wished it any other way. Losing him over this…. Sam didn’t know how he’d keep going. If he could keep going. A nasty little voice in his head told him that this whole experience was good, that he should prepare for the worst. After all, if Dean ever found out that he was often starring in Sam’s wet dreams, no amount of tolerance would keep him around. Sam did his best to tell that voice to fuck off, and if he cried a little harder because of it, well, no one would know.

After a while, Sam started to doze off. He didn’t know when it happened, only that one minute he’d been staring at the shadows the setting sun had cast through their room, and the next he was opening his eyes to near complete darkness. Dean must have come back into the house sometime after he fell asleep, because he could hear the faint sound of water running through the bathroom pipes over the rumble of John snoring in the next room. Sam thought he heard the water shut off, but by then he was already drifting back to sleep. He woke up again shortly to the feeling of his shoes being pulled off and something warm and soft settling over him. He relaxed into the bed when he realized it was just a blanket, and let himself start to drift back to sleep, the sound of a muffled ‘Sorry, Sammy,’ getting lost in blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know I left the boys in a bad spot and Sam a little worse for wear, but I'm going to fix it, I promise! Please let me know if you're enjoying this with comments and kudos, those things seriously make my entire day, you guys. Chapter four is coming very soon, so keep an eye out!


	4. Apologies and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four is finally here! So sorry for the long wait, I've been really busy with family things and being sick for the past couple of weeks, so I haven't had much time to write. However, hopefully my schedule should open up again soon, and I'll be able to update this story more regularly again!  
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and as always, I own nothing except my original characters, and all other rights belong to Kripke and the CW.

Sam woke up early the next morning, understandable since he fell asleep so early the night before. He could hear Dean rustling around in the kitchen, and he considered getting up to ask why he was awake before the sun was even up, but the thought of getting out of bed to face Dean was too much for Sam to handle, so he rolled over instead, pulling the blanket higher until it nearly covered his head and decided to wait and see if Dean left without saying goodbye. Unfortunately, he wasn’t lucky enough for that to happen, and he heard his brother’s boots moving down the hall a few minutes later, stopping in their doorway.

“I know you’re awake.” Dean said, voice neutral. Sam let the covers fall back to his chest and sat up, staring tiredly at Dean where his brother was leaning against the doorway of their room.

“’S dad gone?” Sam asked, rubbing at his eyes and scratching the back of his head.

Dean nodded. “I heard him leave a couple hours ago. He left a note with some numbers to call in case there’s an emergency.”

Sam doubted half of those numbers would even pick up if called, but he didn’t say that out loud. “What are you doing up so early?” He asked instead.

“I got the early shift at the shop.” Dean answered, “I’ll be home around four. Figured you’ll be alright alone until then.” It was worded like a statement, even though Sam knew Dean meant it as a question.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Probably will just watch some T.V. or read. Might take a walk.” Sam picked at a fraying part of his blanket, biting his lip. “How’s your nose?” He asked, eyeing the swelling and slight bruising along the bridge of Dean’s nose.

Dean shrugged. “It’s not broken. I’ve had worse.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, I’m- “

“Sammy, stop.” Dean said, shaking his head before Sam could even finish, “You don’t have to apologize. I… I was being a dick. I deserved it, it’s fine.”

Sam didn’t respond, just dropped his gaze to the blanket, his shoulders sagging. After a moment, Dean took a breath like he was preparing for a speech, and Sam looked up curiously.

“For the record,” Dean began, his own eyes fixed on spot on the floor. “I wouldn’t care, if you were... y’know.” He glanced up at Sam. “I know you said you’re not, and I believe you, but if you were, it wouldn’t matter to me.” He toed at the floor with his boot, and the action made Sam smile, albeit halfheartedly.

“Thanks, Dean.” He said simply, and his brother nodded, clearing his throat.

“So, um, I have to work a double shift tomorrow, but maybe Saturday we can do something together?” Dean suggested, “We could drive into the city, see what’s going on there?”

Sam huffed out a small laugh at Deans attempt at a peace offering, and nodded. “That sounds good.” He said.

Dean smirked, nodding to himself and standing up straight. “Alright, well, I gotta get, or I’m gonna be late.” He murmured, thumbing towards the front of the house, “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

Sam nodded again, and Dean turned and left, calling out a goodbye just before he shut the door behind him. Sam laid in bed a while longer, listening to the rumble of the Impala as Dean started her up and drove away. Even after the sound of the Impala’s engine had completely faded away, Sam didn’t move, instead watching the shadows on his walls change as the sun slowly crept up the horizon and letting his thoughts linger on Deans words. Eventually, when the room had brightened from the dull grey Sam woke up to and the sun streaming into his window had started to warm the cold morning air, Sam got up, going to the small closet in their room and grabbing his stolen magazine off the top shelf. Dean might have believed it when Sam had insisted he wasn’t gay, but Sam wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. He was tired of wondering what all these dreams and fantasies really meant, and he was going to figure his shit out, one way or another.

Deciding it would be better to get through this sooner rather than later, Sam kicked off the jeans that he’d fallen asleep in, flopped down on the bed and started thumbing through the magazine. Though it was vastly different from the comparably tame magazines he’d swiped from Dean or their dad, the images didn’t fail to stir something inside Sam. Within minutes his cock was fully hard, tenting his boxers and leaving a small wet spot on the fabric. Flipping through the pages to skip past the few editorials and articles, Sam landed on an image that made his stomach clench with want. A young man, probably early twenties, was sprawled out naked on a bed. His head was tossed back in pleasure, dirty blonde hair mussed where it was pressed against the pillow, his full mouth wide open and his eyes closed tight. Sam let his eyes travel down the man’s torso, which was less sculpted than most of the others in the magazine but still well-muscled, until his gaze fell between the man’s spread legs. He had one hand wrapped around his thick cock, while the other was cradling his balls, pulling them up close to his body. But that wasn’t the sight making Sam’s cock drool in his shorts. Beneath the man’s balls, nestled between his cheeks, Sam could see the flat, flared base of…. something. Dildo, anal plug, vibrator, he wasn’t sure, but whatever it was the idea of something stuffing the guy full was making Sam’s head spin. He folded the magazine over so he could hold it in just his left hand, then used his right to push his t-shirt up to his armpits and his boxers down his thighs. He wrapped a hand around his cock and started stroking, biting his lip to keep quiet on a reflex. Sam wondered what it felt like, having something back there, and his ass clenched automatically as he imagined getting a hold of a toy like that, pushing it into his hole as he stroked his cock. The images in his mind shifted, and suddenly he wasn’t pushing the toy in himself, but someone was doing it for him. And then it wasn’t a toy, but a cock, a thick, pulsing cock pushing in and filling him up, the man above him grinning as Sam squirmed but wait, it wasn’t just some stranger, the man was _Dean_ , and Dean was smirking down at him and pushing his cock into Sam’s hole and _holy fucking shit_ -

Sam let out a bitten off moan as he came, spurting hot and messy over his stomach. He let the magazine fall to the floor as he stroked himself through it, whole body twitching and shivering with aftershocks. He laid there panting for a while afterwards, staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to organize his thoughts and figure out what he knew. One, he dreamed regularly about being with guys, almost more often than he dreamed about girls. Two, looking at pictures of naked guys turned him on, just as much as pictures of naked girls did. Three, thinking about having sex with guys got him off, but so did thinking about having sex with girls. Sam sighed in frustration and closed his eyes when he realized this hadn’t helped him one bit. Was he just stuck in the middle, then? Was that even a thing? And why the hell was Dean constantly being mixed in with these fantasies? Sure, he loved his brother more than anyone in the world, and okay, maybe he’d noticed Dean was attractive, hot, basically sex on legs, but…. they were brothers. That wasn’t normal, was it? But then, Sam wasn’t sure if it was normal to have the hots for both girls and guys, so what did he know? Letting out a groan, Sam stood, stripping out of his clothes and walking naked to the bathroom to start a shower. He needed to get dressed and walk into town, and he couldn’t do that with come covering his stomach. When these dreams had first started happening, Sam had considered checking the local library to see what books they had on this sort of thing, but he’d been too embarrassed and too convinced it wasn’t an issue to bother. Now, feeling even more lost than before, Sam figured it was his best shot at getting some answers.

*********************

The walk into town hadn’t been as painful as Sam expected. A two-mile walk was virtually nothing for him, not when he’d been running further than that since he was ten on a regular basis, and the horrible, suffocating mugginess from yesterday seemed to have mostly disappeared. It was still hot, as was to be expected in the south in September, but the air was dry, and there was a comfortable breeze blowing that made the weather somewhat tolerable. Still, two miles in eighty-degree heat wearing jeans and a t-shirt was too warm to be completely comfortable, so Sam welcomed the blast of air conditioning he felt when he walked into the towns unimpressive library. Stationed at the limits of the one-stop light town, the library was a squat, brick building with almost no windows and a faded sign over the glass double doors. Despite its bland appearance, the sight of this unimposing building sent a lurch of anxiety through Sam. This wasn’t some progressive town along one of the coasts, this was the middle of rural Kentucky. And sure, maybe they weren’t in the deep south where simply wearing a pink shirt could get you beat up, but this town was still in the bible belt, if technically on the outer edge, and Sam didn’t want to push his luck. Once he’d taken a moment to enjoy the air-conditioned building, Sam walked right past the front desk and towards the stacks of books without a word to the dusty librarian, figuring it would be better if he kept what he was searching for to himself. It took a good fifteen minutes, but Sam finally came across the sexuality section, which consisted of exactly one shelf of books hidden among an entire aisle of anatomy and wellness materials. Still, Sam wasn’t deterred, and he grabbed every book on the shelf that even looked like it could be helpful, piling them into his arms and moving down the aisle to where a large shelving unit was shoved against a wall and created a small, quiet area that he was unlikely to be bothered in. Sam settled down on the floor and set his stack next to him, cracked open the first book and started to read.

Sam spent hours looking through book after book, though he’d quickly discovered that the libraries literature on homosexuality was…. lacking, to say the least. There was shockingly little on how to figure out if you were gay, or if it was possible to be gay and still like girls, and far, far too much on what actions should be taken to prevent becoming gay, or to turn yourself straight. As Sam entered his fourth hour curled up on the floor, he sighed and tossed aside another book who’s only advice had been to seek counsel with a priest or conversion therapist. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Sam didn’t notice that someone else had entered his section of the library until a booted foot tapped against his own.

“Having trouble?” A smooth voice said, and Sam’s gaze shot up, eyes falling on a boy a little older than him, with black hair that fell to his shoulders and sharp brown eyes that watched Sam carefully. “Or was ‘pray the gay away’ actually the answer you were hoping to find here?”

Sam sputtered, shaking his head awkwardly. “N-no, I was…I was just, uh…”

The boy chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t gotta lie, man. I won’t tell on you if you won’t tell on me.” He said, and Sam relaxed, relieved to know that this guy wasn’t likely to start a fight with him over his reading selection.

“Were you, uh, looking for answers too?” Sam asked, gesturing towards the pile of books next to him. The boy shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.

“Nah, I already got it figured out, no thanks to this place.” He said. “If you want real help, you gotta drive into the city. They have an actual section on sexuality in their library, with a few hundred different books. Not just a single shelf with prayer guides and a dusty old Kama Sutra.” He smirked, “Of course, if you don’t wanna make the trip, you can always figure it out the old-fashioned way.” His eyes scanned Sam up and down, and the boy bit his lower lip.

Sam blushed, his eyes darting away nervously. What was this guy implying? Sam had only ever talked to one girl before, and even though he’d ended up kissing her, their social interactions before then had been close to catastrophic. Shouldn’t he figure out how to flirt with a girl before he moved onto guys?

“So, um, what are you doing here, then?” Sam asked, trying not to wince at how harsh that sounded. Thankfully, the guy didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, I was looking for a psychology book. Got a paper to due Monday.”

“You go to the local high school?” Sam asked, rising to his feet. It didn’t seem likely that this guy was in college, not with the nearest university being over an hour away. Besides, he was dressed more like a high schooler than a college kid; Dark clothes, a Blink-182 t-shirt with rips that looked intentional, and a stainless-steel chain hooked to his left front and side belt loops. A complete punk get-up, but without any piercings or tattoos, which told Sam he had to be under eighteen.

“Yeah, but not for much longer. I’m graduating early, so come January I’m buying a bus ticket and heading west. Can’t stand being stuck out here with all these repressed homophobes who think everyone can be one hundred percent straight if they just let Jesus into their hearts.” He narrowed his eyes at Sam, letting his gaze travel up and down his body again in a way that made Sam’s heart race. “You’re not from around here, I take it?”

Sam shook his head. “Just moved here. I’m starting at the high school Monday. My name’s Sam.” His voice cracked, and he actually did wince that time, his cheeks flushing red again in embarrassment. The other boy just laughed.

“Mine’s Eric.” He said, holding out his hand for Sam to shake. Sam took it, trying to ignore the blood pounding in his ears as he wondered how he hadn’t majorly fucked this up yet. Eric let his hand drop after a moment, and his thin lips pursed into a small smirk. “So, Sam, did those books give you the answers you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Sam started, then shook his head. “No, not really. I was hoping they could clear some things up, but…” He trailed off, nudging one of the books with his foot.

“Well,” Eric started, “If you can’t decide which team you want to play for, I’d be happy to help you figure it out. That is, if you’re willing.” His voice was silky smooth, and the low tone of it made Sam’s stomach tighten and his cock twitch. Eric’s eyes caught the motion, and when he licked his lips, Sam almost stopped breathing.

“Uh…what do you mean, exactly?” Sam asked, because he had to be misinterpreting this. There was no way he was getting propositioned for sex by a stranger in the middle of a library.

Eric’s eyes shot back up to Sam’s, and he smiled. “I mean, I have a car and I know someplace we can go where we won’t be bothered. So, if you want to find out if dick is really your thing, mine is available for a test run.”

Sam was suddenly achingly, blindingly hard, though he wasn’t sure how that was possible with all his blood currently making his face burn. “B-but I…I don’t even know you. Why would you want to do…that, with someone you just met?”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Because in this town, unless you’re an arrow straight quarterback, you don’t see that much action. So, when an opportunity arises, I’m not gonna pass it up without even asking. Especially not when opportunity looks like you do.” He licked his lips again, and Sam felt the remaining blood in his brain flood south. Still, he was hesitant to leave with a stranger, and Eric must have sensed that, because he tried to put him at ease in the next breath. “I’m not some serial killer, I swear. Just a guy looking for a good time. You can say no now if you want, or you can back out later if you start to freak, and I won’t hold a grudge. I don’t wanna cause trouble. I just want to get off with a hot guy.”

Sam didn’t know if he genuinely trusted Eric, or if lack of blood flow was simply making him stupid, but he found himself nodding in agreement to Eric’s suggestion. “You said you knew someplace we could go?” He asked, and Eric grinned.

“The woods this library backs up to are actually part of a nature trail. The parking lot is just a few minutes up the road. Hardly anyone ever goes out there, and on a Thursday afternoon, we’re guaranteed to be alone.”

Sam bit his lip, debating the idea. Eric was a bit taller than him, but Sam was sure he could take him if it came to a fight, especially with the knife he’d slipped into his pocket before he’d left the house. A few minutes in the car meant an hour or more walk back, but it was nothing Sam couldn’t handle. If things went bad, he was sure he could get out safely. And exactly how many chances like this was he going to get? He’d came here looking for answers, after all, and now Eric was offering them on a silver platter.

“Alright,” Sam said, waving towards the front, “Lead the way.”

********************

Sam wiped his hands on his jeans as Eric parked his car, anxiety and arousal making his stomach turn. The parking lot was empty, as predicted, but Sam had taken care to memorize the way here, and he knew he could find his way back to town without a problem if he needed to. Eric rolled down the windows and cut the engine, getting out of the driver’s seat and climbing into the backseat before he grinned at Sam.

“Come on, it’s more comfortable back here.” Eric said, and Sam nodded nervously, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car to move to the back. The sound of his door shutting seemed final, and suddenly Sam wasn’t sure if he was going to come in his jeans or puke on his shoes. Eric, however, seemed oblivious to Sam’s inner turmoil, and he cupped Sam’s cheek gently, moving in close and pressing their lips together. Sam tensed, at first, but after a little coaxing from Eric, he started to relax, letting his eyes slip closed as he got lost in the kiss. It felt…. good. Not much different from kissing a girl, really, except Eric seemed to like being the one in charge, so Sam’s role was more passive than it had been during his last kiss. When Eric licked tentatively at his lower lip, Sam didn’t hesitate to open his mouth, and a small groan slipped from inside him, which Eric echoed with a rumbling growl. He wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer after a few minutes, urging Sam’s hips up until Sam was straddling his lap. The position was different, but not unpleasant. It allowed Sam to run his hands over Eric’s shoulders and chest, and he was surprised to find that the lack of breasts didn’t bother him at all. Everything just felt _good_ , and Sam relaxed further, dropping his hips down so that his cock was pressed against Eric’s stomach, and he could feel Eric’s cock beneath his ass. Eric growled again, letting go of Sam’s cheek to grab his ass in both hands and urge his hips into a roll, which, okay, yeah, Sam was on board with this. Sam moaned at the friction the movement gave him, and suddenly he wanted more skin under his hands. He shoved Eric’s t-shirt up his body, and Eric must have gotten the message because the next thing he knew, both of their shirts had disappeared and Sam was pressing closer, the feeling of skin on skin too good to resist. Eric broke their kiss, moving to suck at Sam’s neck instead, though he brought the fingers of his right hand up and pressed them to Sam’s lips. Sam didn’t think, just sucked the digits into his mouth, cock throbbing when Eric moaned as Sam bobbed his head and soaked his fingers in drool. Suddenly the fingers were gone from his mouth, but Sam didn’t care because somewhere along the line Eric had gotten his fly undone and Sam was beyond ready to feel a hand on his cock. Only, Eric’s hand didn’t slip through his fly. Instead it slid around behind him, sliding into the loosened back of Sam’s jeans beneath his boxers and oh, oh god, Eric’s finger was rubbing over his hole and he was starting to push it in and that was just a line that Sam was not ready to cross.

Sam lurched back, launching himself almost completely out of Eric’s lap and onto the floor of the car. Sam winced when the cup holders pushed painfully into his back, and he blushed deeply when he noticed Eric staring at him with startled confusion.

“I-I’m not…. I don’t want to…. I’m not ready for…. that.” He stuttered out lamely, but Eric seemed to get the idea. His expression softened, and he nodded, helping Sam back up so he wasn’t crumpled awkwardly on the car floor.

“That’s okay, it was my bad. I should have checked with you first. You just seemed so into it, I got caught up in the moment.” Eric smiled, his own cheeks turning a little pink. “Do you still wanna fool around? I’ll stay clear of your back door, I promise.”

Sam hesitated, but eventually nodded. Somehow, his erection hadn’t flagged in the slightest, still forming a good-sized tent in his boxers despite the embarrassing interruption, and the whole encounter had only increased his curiosity. Eric grinned, pulling Sam back in for another kiss, and it took a few minutes, but Sam finally relaxed enough to get them back to the spot they’d been before he’d freaked out. Eric’s hand slipped down between their bodies, and Sam pulled away from the kiss when he heard Eric’s zipper slide down.

“You into frottage?” Eric asked, and Sam’s blank stare must have given away his ignorance, because Eric grinned suddenly, a mischievous light glinting in his eyes. “Oh, man, you’re gonna love this. Feels so fucking good, trust me.” He pulled his own cock out of his boxers, then Sam’s, and Sam felt an immature, smug sense of pride when he noticed that he was a bit bigger than the older boy. All prideful thoughts were washed from his brain, though, when Eric wrapped a hand around both of them, pressing their cocks together and stroking slowly. Sam’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head, and he couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his lips. Eric was right, it did feel incredible, better than anything Sam had experienced so far. The heat and the friction was glorious, and there was something about knowing his dick was pressed up against another dick that threatened to make Sam’s adolescent brain short-circuit. Still, as Eric continued to stroke them together, the nagging feeling that this wasn’t quite right grew in the back of Sam’s mind. Everything felt amazing, and he was into it, that much he knew, but it just wasn’t quite what he wanted. Trying not to think and just let the physical sensation take over, Sam let his vision go fuzzy and his mind go blank. Without conscious effort, his mind’s eye changed his perception, and before long, Eric’s long, dark hair had turned short and light brown, his dark eyes had turned a mossy green, and his thin, shapeless lips had become full and bow-shaped. When Eric was close and started talking, trying to coax them both to orgasm, his voice wasn’t smooth anymore, but whiskey rough, and when he urged him to ‘come, Sammy, come for me’, it was a no longer Eric in front of him, but someone else, someone older and far more familiar. Sam came with a shout, emptying his load onto Eric’s stomach before collapsing forward.

Sam was vaguely aware of Eric orgasming beneath him, but by that point his brain felt fried. It took him a solid five minutes to gather the will power to slide off Eric’s lap, though he had enough wherewithal to retain his manners.

“That was…fantastic…” He said, a dopey smile spreading over his face. Eric smiled back, but the expression seemed off. Almost sad.

“Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself.” Eric said, then bit his lip. “So, who’s Dean?”

Sam’s smile vanished instantly. “What?”

Eric busied himself with digging on the floor of his car, coming up a moment later with a package of wet wipes. “Dean, the name you called when you came? Who is he?”

Sam’s face fell, and he slouched back against the door of the car. “He’s my brother….” Sam realized his mistake a moment too late, and looked up at Eric with wide eyes, shaking his head at the older boys bewildered expression. “Adopted brother! He’s, well, his parents were close with my dad, and when we were little, his parents died in a fire. My dad took him in, and raised us together. We’re not really related or anything.” Sam lied hastily. Oh, how Sam wished that were true. It would make this whole mess a lot easier to deal with.

Eric raised an eyebrow, and Sam held his breath, sure that he’d be called out for his lie. But then Eric shrugged, and tore a wipe from the package to clean up the mess on his stomach. “That’s rough, man. Being in love with someone you’re that close with is hard enough, but trying to figure out if you’re gay at the same time…”

“I’m not in love with him!” Sam protested, cheeks burning. Eric smirked.

“You totally are. You said his name while you orgasmed with me, which means you were thinking about him while we were fooling around. And I’m sure this isn’t the first time it’s happened.” Eric raised an eyebrow, waiting for Sam to correct him, but Sam didn’t speak. They both knew Eric was right. “Exactly,” Eric continued, “Plus, you can see it when you talk about him. Under whatever emotion you’re showing at the surface, it’s obvious that you love the guy.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah…” he admitted, and shit, did he really just admit out loud that he was in love with his brother? “But it’s complicated.”

Eric nodded, though he really didn’t understand the half of it. “I get it, man.” He slapped a wet wipe on Sam’s stomach, and Sam yelped at the cold, making Eric laugh. “But hey, here’s my advice that you didn’t ask for; tell him.”

Sam shook his head, cleaning up his stomach with the wipe and tucking his dick back into his jeans. “I can’t do that. He’d hate me.”

Eric shrugged. “Maybe he will,” He said, “Or maybe, he won’t. Maybe, he feels the same way, and by not fessing up, you’re denying both of you. It happens.”

“Yeah, in what chick-flick?” Sam snorted, searching for his lost t-shirt.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Eric muttered, rolling his eyes, “Look, just, take it from someone who’s been around this block. It’s better to just be honest with him. You’ll regret it if you aren’t.”

Sam paused before he pulled on his shirt, biting his lip. “I’ll think about it.” He muttered. “Sorry I uh, called someone else’s name.” He said, giving Eric a guilty half-smile.

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Eric said, waving him off. “It’s not the first this has happened to me. Besides, this wasn’t a first date, or anything. Just a couple of guys helping each other out. And, it seems to me like you figured some things out, which is what you wanted, right?” Eric finished dressing and got out of the car, patting the hood to get Sam moving. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back into town.”

Sam climbed back into the front seat, and sat silently on the ride back to the library. Eric was right, the experience did give him answers, but he wasn’t sure they were the ones he’d wanted to hear. He couldn’t think about that now, though, because before Sam knew it they were back in town, pulling up in front of the library, and Sam couldn’t afford to get lost in his thoughts just yet.

Before Sam got out of the car, Eric stopped him and shoved an old receipt with a number scrawled on the back into Sam’s hand, telling him to drop a line if he wanted a round two, or if he just wanted to talk. Sam thanked him and waved goodbye, watching as Eric drove off and jumping when he heard Dean’s voice a moment later.

“Sammy?” Dean called, waving at him from the front of the hardware store across the street. Dean checked to make sure no cars were coming, then jogged over, confusion and concern obvious on his face. “What are you doing here? Who was that guy?”

For the second time that day, Sam was grateful to hunting, since it had made him an expert at crafting half-lies on the fly. “Just a friend. I walked down earlier to check out the library, and he was in there checking out the same book I was. We got talking, then we got hungry, so we went to grab some food.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam’s story, obviously not buying it though he had no proof that Sam was lying. “Uh huh,” He muttered, “Well, I just got off work. Was gonna go pick you up and see if you wanted to grab dinner, but if you just ate…”

“No, no, I could go for some food.” Sam said, his stomach growling as he remembered that he hadn’t actually eaten all day.

Dean frowned, looking Sam over for a moment before leaning in to sniff his hair. “Have you been smoking weed?”

“What?” Sam asked, acting appalled at Deans assumption even though he realized it was a pretty fair accusation. “No, Christ, Dean, I’m not you, remember? I’m just hungry, is all. I didn’t have much money on me, so I just split a fry with Eric.”

Dean actually looked a little guilty after that, but Sam wasn’t sure if it was because he felt bad about assuming Sam was doing drugs, or if he felt bad that Sam didn’t even have enough money with him to get food if he was hungry. “Oh, right. Well, there’s a diner up the road that looks good, wanna grab somethin’ there?”

Sam nodded. “Sure, sounds great.”

Dean was in a talkative mood during dinner, and Sam was grateful for it, because he wasn’t sure he could think of something to say if there was a gun pointed at his head. His thoughts buzzed with everything he’d discovered today, and Eric’s words kept circling his brain. Though, somehow, the realization that he liked being with guys wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind; Sam was more focused on his feelings for Dean. He wanted to tell Dean, god, did he want to tell him, but he wasn’t sure he could handle Dean’s reaction. If he fessed up, and Dean didn’t feel the same way, it would change everything. Dean would be disgusted by him, he wouldn’t want to be around Sam anymore. And that was all if Dean didn’t freak out and tell their dad, which…. Sam couldn’t even think what would happen then. Sam went back and forth with himself in his head, all while he nodded along to Dean’s stories about his first day at the hardware store. They ate greasy burgers, then Dean drove them home and turned in, reminding Sam of his double shift tomorrow before he went to bed. Sam flopped onto the sofa and turned on the television, though he didn’t really watch anything, just stared at it blankly until he had trouble keeping his eyes open, his mind still churning. He finally turned the screen off after a few hours, double checking the locks and the salt lines in the house before collapsing into his bed and falling promptly to sleep, exhausted after the long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Please comment and let me know what you thought, your comments make me so freaking happy and give so much inspiration. Chapter five should be coming soon, hopefully, so keep an eye out!


	5. The Wonders of New Friends and Anal Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am so, so, so sorry that it has been so long since my last update! Life has really been kicking my ass lately, and I've been too swamped with work and family and medical complications to write very much. Things are starting to wind down again though, so hopefully I'll be able to pick up a more regular update schedule. Until then, here's chapter five! I hope you all enjoy this, and please let me know what you think in the comments. Those kudos and comments really do make my day, I appreciate them so much and they really help motivate me to write more. Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing except my original characters. All rights belong to Kripke and the CW.

_Dean was on top of him, kissing him slow and deep. One hand rubbed soothingly at Sam’s side, while the other was between Sam’s legs, rubbing teasingly at his hole. Sam arched, moaning quietly at the new sensation, and Dean slipped two fingers in, making Sam cry out. His cock throbbed and leaked against his belly as Dean worked his fingers in and out, and then suddenly the fingers were bigger, thicker, one solid appendage instead of three slim digits. Dean was fucking him now, his cock hammering into Sam and Sam was writhing, begging and pleading for Dean to let him come, just let him come already, he needed to come, he needed_ -

Sam woke with a gasp, sweat soaking his body underneath his covers as his cock throbbed painfully in his boxers. He looked around the room anxiously, expecting to find Dean staring at him in shock, but found the room empty. He checked the time, and let out a sigh of relief when he realized that Dean was at work, and that there wasn’t any chance Dean had heard him moaning in his sleep. Comforted by the knowledge that he was alone, Sam turned his attention to his dick, scowling at the place where it was tenting the blanket. How was this even possible? He’d masturbated and hooked up yesterday, his body should be satisfied! He shouldn’t be having wet dreams the day after hooking up, it just wasn’t fair.

With a huff, Sam kicked off the blankets and his boxers, taking himself in hand and starting to stroke. He worked himself over for several minutes, but he wasn’t getting anywhere, and he let his hand fall as he groaned in frustration. His thoughts traveled back to the dream, to the idea of Dean fucking his ass, and the fantasy made his gut clench, his cock twitching eagerly. Sam bit his lip as he remembered how much the image in the magazine had turned him on, how good it had felt to have Eric’s fingers back there before he’d freaked out and pushed him away. Cautiously, Sam brought his middle finger to his mouth, sucking on it to get it good and wet before he put his hand between his legs. He rubbed at his hole for a moment before pushing in to the second digit. It felt…. strange. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sensation, to be honest, but he didn’t hate it, either. He moved his finger a little, thrusting out and then back in, but he had to pull his hand away after a moment, his spit having dried up, making movement uncomfortable. Sam thought about rewetting his finger with spit, but rejected the idea immediately. He glanced around the room, hoping to find something that would ease the way a little better, and his eyes landed on Dean’s duffle. He bit his lip, getting up and crossing the room to dig through the bag, searching for the small bottle that he knew would be in there. He’d seen the lube once before, years ago, and had asked what it was for. Dean explained that the lube made sex better, especially when you were wearing a condom. Sam had forgotten about the exchange after that, but he remembered it now, and he grinned in success when his hand closed around the little bottle.

Flopping back onto the bed, Sam squeezed out a dollop of lube onto his fingers, then slid his hand between his legs, inserting his middle finger once again. His mouth dropped open at the sensation, and hell yes, this was more like it. He thrusted his finger in and out for a few moments, then added a second, moaning softly. He stiffened briefly, expecting someone to come knock at his door and check on him before he remembered that he was alone. He relaxed and let out another moan, finding the ability to make noise while he got off liberating. He got louder as he sped up his thrusts, trying to reach deeper each time. Suddenly, Sam brushed something inside him that sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine, and a cry louder than any of the previous ones fell from his lips He crooked his fingers and pushed at the spot again, unable to help the way his hips rocked down into the sensation while his stomach rolled with pleasure. He kept pressing and rubbing at the spot, feeling something build inside him, and before he even realized how close he’d been, Sam was coming. His vision whited out for a moment and he screamed as the orgasm ripped through him. When the aftershocks had ended and he’d finally come back to himself, he decided that he needed to find a sex shop at the next opportunity. He’d known that anal sex could feel good, it had to with the amount of people who were into it, but Sam hadn’t expected…. _that_. He didn’t even know that it was possible to come without a hand on his cock, but now that he did, he planned on making up for lost time.

Now that the arousal had faded from his mind, Sam realized how gross he was, his body now covered in sweat and come and lube. He sat up and stripped off his clothes, stuffing them into the overflowing laundry bag and grabbing clean clothes from his duffel before going to shower. Once he’d cleaned himself up and put Dean’s lube back where he’d found it, Sam wandered out into the front room with the plan to rustle up some breakfast. He frowned when he noticed a note on the island counter in the kitchen, and he picked it up to read it over.

Sammy,

Left some money for you, in case you wanted to go out with your friend again. Won’t be home until after 8. There’s food in the fridge and detergent in the mudroom next to the washer. Please do laundry.

-Dean

Sam rolled his eyes at the chore request but couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth when he noticed the ten-dollar bill Dean had left folded under the note. Sam pocketed the money, then tossed the note aside, grabbing a loaf of bread and a jar of jelly to spread on toast. After he ate, Sam started a load of laundry, and then promptly realized that he had nothing else to do. He had no homework, no books he hadn’t read a thousand times, and no hunt to research. There was always going for a run, but a step outside quickly killed that idea. It had to be at least ninety degrees out, too hot to run without risking heat stroke, and there was no way he was leaving the comfortable air conditioning of the house to walk back into town. It was then that he remembered Eric’s number still tucked into the pocket of his jeans, and Sam shrugged, fishing the receipt out and shooting him a text asking if he wanted to hang out. Eric had said he was there if Sam ever wanted to talk, and after yesterday and this morning, Sam had a few more questions.

Eric texted back saying he’d be there soon, and about an hour after Sam texted him their address, there was a knock at his door. Sam scanned the front room quickly to make sure there was limited evidence of his families hunting lifestyle, then opened the door, letting his new friend inside.

“Hey,” Sam said, “Thanks for driving over here.”

Eric smiled, stepping inside. “No problem. Wouldn’t make anyone walk anywhere in this heat, and I was bored anyway. The school’s ancient air conditioner finally broke down, so they canceled classes for the day.”

Sam blinked in surprise, and gave Eric a guilty look as he shut the door. “Oh, right. Today is Friday. I didn’t realize you’d probably be in school.”

Eric shrugged. “I wasn’t in school though, so like I said, no biggie.” He glanced around the shabby living room, pausing at the sight of the salt lines under the doors and windows. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the salt, man?”

Sam blushed. “Uh. My dad, he’s uh…. really superstitious.” Sam explained, “The salt is for protection from, um, evil spirits.”

Surprisingly, Eric only nodded in understanding. “Cool.” He muttered, then turned and sat down on the couch, setting his red backpack at his feet. “I’m glad you texted, cause after I got home I remembered I had this,” He pulled a paperback out of his bag and handed it to Sam, “I figured you might wanna borrow it. It helped me figure some stuff out, and since you were digging through the library for books, I thought it could help you, too.”

Sam took the book, glancing at the rainbow-colored cover curiously. “The Journey Out?” Sam read, frowning a little. Eric chuckled.

“It’s a book about being gay. Or lesbian, or bisexual, or whatever. And it’s way more helpful than anything in the library. It gives you real advice, and real answers, instead of just telling you to pray about it.” Eric relaxed back into the couch. “Read it over, when you get the chance.”

Sam nodded, stepping over Eric’s legs to sit on the other side of the couch. “I will.” He said, then frowned. “So, I know what gay and lesbian is, but…what the hell is ‘bisexual’?”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what bisexual is?” He asked, then sighed when Sam shook his head. “Jeez, and I thought I was sheltered. Bisexual is when you like both guys and girls.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Wait, that’s a real thing? That’s normal?”

“Well, yeah.” Eric said. “I mean, I’m pretty sure more people tend to call themselves gay or straight, just because it’s easier, but it’s totally a thing. A lot of people are into both.”

“So,” Sam started, “You’re saying that I can like boobs and pussy and cocks and anal sex all at the same time and that’s…. totally okay? It doesn’t mean I’m some indecisive freak of nature or anything?”

Eric looked at him strangely. “Yeah, dude, that’s all normal. Damn, you really are all twisted up inside, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “And by the way, liking anal sex doesn’t make you gay. There are straight dudes, and straight girls, for that matter, that love getting pounded in the ass, and I’ve met plenty of gay guys who didn’t like you touching their butts at all. It’s all personal preference.” He smirked at Sam, “Though, yesterday I thought you weren’t into butt stuff.”

Sam blushed dark red, ducking his face a little so his bangs fell in front of his eyes. “Yeah, I um…” He cleared his throat, “I tried it out, later, and….it was pretty good.”

Eric laughed, though his expression was genuinely happy, not teasing or cruel. “It’s awesome, isn’t it? Like, yeah, a little weird and kinda scary at first, but in the end, it just blows your fucking mind.”

Sam chuckled shyly and nodded. “I didn’t even have to touch my dick to get off, it felt so good.” He confessed, and Eric’s jaw dropped open.

“Seriously? You can shoot off untouched? Dude, that’s so fucking hot.” Eric grinned. “You should tell that Dean guy you can do that. Straight or gay, he’ll be dying to get into your pants after that.” Eric looked around the room, “Where is he, by the way?”

“Oh, Dean’s at work. He’s got a double shift today, so he’ll be home late.” Sam mentioned.

Eric frowned, looking at Sam curiously for a moment. “Okay, so, just to be clear, did you invite me over as a friend or to have sex?” He asked. “I’m okay with either, but if you want sex, I gotta know so I can go grab condoms.”

“No, no, I invited you over as a friend.” Sam said quickly. “I mean, yesterday was great, it’s just…”

Eric nodded, understanding shining in his eyes. “I get it. You have someone you’re waiting on.” He said, and Sam nodded, grateful that Eric was being so cool about this whole mess. “So, friend, what did you want to do?”

Sam and Eric spent the rest of the day lounging around the house, talking about every subject they could think of. Discussions on books, cars, music, travel, movies, and school were occasionally interrupted with questions from Sam about being gay or bisexual. Sam found that Eric was surprisingly easy to talk to, and by the time evening rolled around, he was happy to say that he considered the older boy a friend, something Sam so rarely had. Conversation flowed easily and amicably between them, and they eventually lost track of time, so the sound of a key in the door some hours later was surprising to Sam until he noticed it was ten past eight. Dean walked in a moment later, standing in the doorway staring at the two teenagers with a shocked expression until their conversation died off.

“Hey, Dean. This is Eric, the kid I met at the library yesterday.” Sam explained before Dean could say anything, praying that his brother wouldn’t make a big deal out of him having someone over. Eric turned in his seat to wave politely, then winked at Sam when he turned back around, mouthing ‘he’s hot’ and suppressing a laugh.

“Hey.” Dean said shortly, shutting the door and tossing his keys on the kitchen table, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be over.” He said, voice betraying that he didn’t approve.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Eric came by earlier and we just got talking and lost track of time.” Sam said, “We made mac and cheese, I put some in the fridge for you.” Sam tried to offer up the food as an olive branch, but Dean didn’t seem to be taking it, his mouth staying downturned even as he grabbed his dinner from the fridge. Sam turned to Eric, prepared to tell him he had to go, but Eric had already gotten the message.

“Hey, I should probably get going. I didn’t realize how late it was, and my mom is probably having a coronary right now.” Eric smiled at Sam, grabbing his back and standing to go. “I’ll see you at school Monday, alright?”

Sam smiled gratefully and nodded at his friend. “Yeah, I’ll see you then. Thanks for coming by, it was fun.” He muttered, walking Eric to the door. As soon as he heard his friend’s car start up and pull away, Sam turned to Dean, hoping to pacify his brother before they got in a fight. “Dean, I’m sorry, I- “

“You’re not supposed to have people over, and you know it.” Dean said firmly crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. “What if he saw all the occult lore we keep, or our weapons? We don’t need that kind of attention from civilians, Sam. Dad would rip you a new one if he was here.”

“But he didn’t see anything!” Sam complained. “I made sure everything was put away, and it’s not like I let him wander through the house. I’m not an idiot!” He frowned. “Come on, Dean, we were just hanging out, he’s nice and I hardly ever get to be around people my own age.”

“Sam, he’s still a stranger that you brought into our house. We’re not allowed to do that, it’s one of dad’s golden rules.” Dean said.

“But you bring girls home all the time! How come that’s okay and this isn’t?”

“Because it is! It’s different!”

“How?”

“Because I’m bringing them over to have-“ Dean stopped suddenly and bit his lip, looking down at the floor awkwardly before meeting Sam’s eyes again. “Alright, I guess…. it’s not that big of a deal. Just don’t tell dad, and don’t make a habit out of it, okay?”

Sam frowned, but nodded, not about to argue when Dean had just let him off the hook, even if he wasn’t sure why. “I won’t.” He agreed.

Dean sighed. “Good.” He muttered, suddenly sounding very tired as he put his dinner place in the microwave and nuked it.

Sam bit his lip. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?” He asked. “You said you wanted to do something together. Go into the city”

Dean glanced up, smiling softly in a way Sam had only ever seen Dean do for him. “Yeah, course we are, Sammy.” He said. “Think I’m about tapped out for tonight, though. I was doing air conditioner repairs all over town today. I’m probably gonna crash after I eat.”

Sam nodded, thoughts wandering to the book Eric had brought him earlier, the one he’d stashed under the couch to read later. “That’s okay, I was just gonna read while I ran another load of laundry, anyway.”

Dean nodded, pulling his plate out when the microwave beeped and setting it on the island counter, grabbing a fork and starting to eat without even bothering to sit down. “Maybe we can catch a show, or find a nice place to eat. I’m sure Lexington has some nice restaurants.” He mused.

Sam curled up on the couch, trying not to look too eager for Dean to leave the room. “Sure, that sounds fun.” He agreed absently, his mind still stuck on the book.

Dean finished up his dinner a couple of minutes later, then muttered a quiet ‘goodnight, Sammy,’ after putting his plate in the sink. Sam turned the T.V. on, listening as Dean cleaned up in the bathroom before moving to their room. Once he heard the bedroom door click shut, Sam waited for another few minutes, making sure that Dean was truly settled in for the night before he pulled the book out from under the couch. He cracked it open and started reading, devouring page after page with the same careful consideration and attention to detail that he used for their hunting research. The book was shockingly helpful, providing advice on everything from deciding on a label and practicing safe sex to coming out to family and friends. Sam quickly lost track of time as he read, and when he finally set the book down to yawn and stretch, he saw that the clock on the wall read nearly four in the morning. Sam sighed, folding the corner of his page over so he could find it later, and checked the locks, turning off the lights and television before retreating to his room. He crept in quietly, careful not to wake Dean, and slid the book into the drawer of his nightstand. Sam frowned when he noticed his stolen magazine there too, since he didn’t remember hiding it in his nightstand, but he was too tired to worry about it. He shucked off his jeans and fell into bed, drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this update, and with any luck there should be more of this story coming soon! Leave a comment or kudos if you liked it, and keep a lookout for the next chapter!


	6. Drunken Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! I didn't expect to finish this one so fast, but the writing bug hit me hard I guess. Originally I was going to make the events of this update and the next one a single chapter, but it would have been just far too long that way. So, I had to split them up. I hope to have the next chapter up within a week or so, if all goes well, so don't be too mad at me. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing except my original characters. All other rights belong to Kripke and the CW.

Sam’s sleep was unusually dreamless, though he suspected that was due to how purely exhausted he was after staying up half the night reading. When Sam finally blinked his eyes open sometime after noon, he frowned, looking between the clock and his empty room. He would have expected Dean to wake him up earlier, especially since they were planning on driving into the city today. He got up slowly, scratching his head as he wandered into the empty front room and out the screen door. He found Dean in the driveway, cursing loudly where he was bent over the open hood of the Impala.

“Dean?” Sam asked, squinting in the blindingly bright midday sun. “What’re you doing?”

Dean looked over his shoulder at the sound of Sam’s voice, backing up from under the hood so he could stand up straight. “Baby won’t start.” He grumbled, grabbing a rag to wipe the oil and grease off his hands. “I’m pretty sure I can fix it, but it’s gonna take time. Probably most of the afternoon.”

Sam’s face fell instantly. “Oh. Okay.”

Dean frowned, and it was obvious from the look on his face that he felt guilty for canceling their day together. “Hey, don’t be like that. We can still do something.” He said, trying to cheer him up. “Once I get this fixed, we’ll grab some dinner together, wherever you want. And I think I saw a movie rental place in town. We’ll pick up some beer and popcorn, and have our movie night here. Okay?”

Sam smiled softly at Dean’s suggestion. There were only two dine-in restaurants in town, along with a pizza place and a barely operational taco joint, but Sam appreciated Deans offer anyway. Besides, movies and beer on their own couch sounded pretty good. “Okay.” He said. “I’m gonna go shower, holler if you need any help with the car.”

Dean grinned and nodded. “Will do.” He said, both of them ignoring the fact that Sam was pretty much clueless when it came to automotive repair and wouldn’t be any help to Dean. Dean turned back to the Impala, and Sam went back into the house, stopping in his bedroom to grab clean clothes and the bottle of lube. Since Dean wasn’t going to be rushing him out the door, he might as well take the opportunity to experiment a little more. He took his time in the shower, stroking his cock leisurely and working himself open until he was three fingers deep, gasping in pleasure as he rode his own hand. He came with a bitten off shout, the orgasm just as intense as the one from yesterday. He sagged against the wall in pleasure, surprised to find he enjoyed the dull burn that came from fucking himself on something. After he’d caught his breath, Sam finished washing up, getting out of the shower and dressing in jeans and a t-shirt before leaving the bathroom and going back to their room. He returned the lube to its rightful place in Deans bag, then turned to his backpack, starting to dig through the collection of old school supplies.  

After a few minutes, Sam found an old book cover that had fallen off a library book he’d rented ages ago. The cover was bland and boring, just a watercolor picture of a dense forest, and the title was too worn to easily read from any distances. It was exactly what Sam needed. He grabbed the book Eric had given him out of his nightstand and wrapped the book cover around it, checking to make sure none of the rainbow coloring peaked through before nodding to himself. Satisfied that his reading material was thoroughly disguised, Sam grabbed an apple from the kitchen and went back outside, settling under a large tree in their front yard to read while Dean worked on the car. He munched happily on the apple, stealing glances at his brother’s ass in between paragraphs.

Though it wasn’t the afternoon he’d expected, Sam was surprised to find he still enjoyed himself. It was hot enough out to still be comfortable in the shade of the tree, and the rock music Dean was playing on the radio coupled with his brother’s occasional curses didn’t bother him at all. In fact, it was rather soothing to him. They hadn’t had a lazy day together without their dad barking at them in a long time. Several hours passed easily without either Sam or Dean saying a word, both brothers absorbed in their respective tasks of reading and fixing the Impala while they enjoyed the heat of the day.

Though he didn’t consciously realize it, at some point during the lazy day in the sun, Sam nodded off. He woke up some time later awkwardly slumped against the tree trunk, his book on his stomach and Dean standing over him with a gentle smile.

“Enjoy your nap, sleeping beauty?” Dean teased, wiping grease from his hands with a dirty rag. Sam sat up slowly and blinked, frowning when he realized the sun was far lower in the sky than he remembered it.

“What time is it?” Sam asked with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes and brushing the dirt off his shirt.

Dean glanced at his watch. “Half past six. You’ve been out for about an hour and a half. I’m kind of surprised, really. Thought you would have gotten enough sleep already.”

“I got to bed real late last night.” Sam explained, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rode up his stomach a bit, and he noticed Deans eyes glance down at the exposed strip of skin. He frowned, but Dean just shook his head and smirked.

“You’re growing like a freakin’ weed. Gonna have to buy you new clothes soon.” Dean muttered, kicking gently at Sam’s foot. “Baby’s all fixed, so I’m gonna go hop in the shower, then we can run out and grab dinner. Sound good?” He said, walking back towards the house before Sam could respond.

Sam blinked at his brothers retreating back, shaking his head and climbing to his feet. Once he’d brushed the dirt off his butt, he went back into the house, settling on the couch and opening his book back to the page he’d left off on. From all the reading he’d done, e was almost certain that he was bisexual, but he was still unclear on how he should move forward, now that he’d determined his own label. The book offered helpful tips on coming out to parents or friends, but absolutely nothing on how to tell your big brother that you were both bi and in love with him.

Sam was distantly aware of the shower shutting off and the normal noises of Dean going through his routine, but somehow Dean’s presence didn’t register until his brother was directly behind him, staring over his shoulder at the book.

“Whatcha reading?” Dean asked, and Sam jumped nearly a foot in the air, slamming the book shut hastily and turning to glare at his brother.

“Damnit, Dean! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Sam complained, setting the book on the couch next to him. Dean scooped it up quickly, ignoring Sam’s shout of protest.

“’Voices of the Lost’? What’s that about?” Dean asked.

Sam crawled onto his knees on the couch, snatching the book out of Dean’s hand. “It’s about the endangered species from deciduous forests, and it’s a library book so you need to be careful with it.” He snapped, the lie falling easily from his lips. He actually didn’t remember what the real ‘Voices of the Lost’ was about, but he knew Dean wouldn’t be interested if he thought the book was non-fiction.

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing between the book and Sam for a long moment. “That’s what you’ve had your nose stuck in all day? A book about dead animals?” He shook his head, reaching out to ruffle Sam’s hair. “God, you’re such a nerd.”

“Am not.” Sam protested weakly, ducking out of Dean’s grasp and setting the book on the coffee table.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, nerd.” Dean teased, grabbing his keys and wallet and nodding towards the door. “You want some grub or not?”

Without another word, Sam followed Dean out to the car, crawling into the passenger seat and smiling softly at Dean’s proud grin when the car started up without a problem.

“So where are we eating?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “It’s up to you, remember?”

Sam hummed thoughtfully, thinking about the four restaurants in their small town. He didn’t trust the taco joint to serve edible food, and he didn’t really feel like another burger from the diner. There was a fancy seafood place in town, but it was a bit out of their price range, and Sam didn’t like fish all that much anyway. Which left…

“How about we pick up a pizza? We’ll bring it back home and we can eat while we watch a movie.” Sam suggested. Dean grinned immediately.

“Sounds perfect, Sammy.” Dean said as he pulled out of the driveway.

They stopped at the movie rental store first, picking up a couple comedies and an action movie they both agreed on, along with several packets of microwave popcorn and liquorish for Dean. Then they headed to the corner store where Dean picked up a two liter of Coke and a case of beer, Sam waiting patiently in the car so that Dean’s fake ID was less likely to be questioned. Finally, they hit up the pizza place, arming themselves with a large meat-lovers with extra cheese before heading back to their temporary home. Spreading their haul over the coffee table, Sam popped in one of the comedies as they settled in for dinner. His stomach snarling, Sam devoured his first slice of pizza in just a couple minutes. He started to reach for the Coke to wash down the extra cheese, but was surprised when Dean handed him a can of beer instead.

“Really?” Sam asked cautiously, wiping grease from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dean smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, why not? You’re older than I was when I started drinking. Just don’t let dad know.” He said with a smirk.

Sam grinned and took the beer, cracking the can open and swallowing down a sour mouthful. The taste wasn’t great, but it wasn’t enough to make him sputter, and after a couple more slices of pizza he was starting to appreciate the distinct flavor. By the time he was halfway through his second can, Sam no longer cared about the sour taste, and was instead more than happy to sip at his drink and lean heavily against Dean as they laughed at the actors in the movie. Though, Dean seemed to be laughing more than expected, and as Sam counted the cans on the table in front of him, he realized his brother was currently on his fourth drink. Not quite drunk, but well on his way. Normally it would bother Sam that Dean was spending their night in getting wasted, but tonight it just made him smile and shake his head. Maybe it was the alcohol swirling through his own body, or just the residual good mood from their lazy afternoon, but Sam was genuinely happy.

Shortly after Dean cracked open his fifth beer and handed Sam his third, the first movie of their evening ended. As the credits rolled, both bothers stretched and rose to their feet, Sam stumbling a little as the room started to spin ever so slightly. Dean laughed and caught his arm before he could tumble over, slapping Sam’s shoulder and making a comment about going for a leak before he turned away. Steady on his feet once again, Sam gathered up the remaining pizza to put in the fridge and grabbed a packet of popcorn from their pile on the table. The living room was almost completely dark save for the glow from the TV, now that the sun had long ago set, but Sam didn’t bother to turn on a light. It would have broken the relaxed tone they’d set for the evening, and Sam was enjoying it too much to break the spell. Dean returned a few minutes later, and Sam glanced up from starting the microwave popcorn to notice that his brother had changed into sweats and an old t-shirt after his bathroom break.

“Pajama party?” Sam teased with a small smirk, laughing when Dean gave him the finger and grinned.

“Go change, bitch. I’ll get the next movie started.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice and left the kitchen to pee and change without another word. He stripped off his t-shirt and exchanged his jeans for an old pair of grey sweatpants, then on impulse, grabbed one of Dean’s old ACDC shirts and put it on as well. It was a little big on him, but it was comfortable, smelled like his brother, and made him feel warm and safe, so Sam didn’t give it a second thought. He stepped back out into the living room, flopping on the couch next to Dean and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. He looked over at his brother and frowned when he noticed Dean staring, glancing down at his own body in confusion.

“What?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow when Deans eyes suddenly snapped to his. “Something wrong?”

“Huh?” Dean asked, then shook his head. “No, just…is that my shirt?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

Dean swallowed and shook his head, taking another long drink of beer. “Nothing. Just wondering.”

Sam frowned at the strange behavior but shrugged it off as the movie started. He scooted closer to Dean so he could have easier access to the popcorn bowl and, found himself getting lost in the mindlessness of an action flick. His mind wandered as he watched, the plot not all that compelling, and eventually he stopped paying attention to the story all together and fixated instead on the actors. There was a stereotypical hot blonde chick with huge boobs and long legs, of course, but male hero was also incredibly attractive, at least to Sam. He couldn’t stop tracing the shape of the mans body, appreciating his sculpted abs and tight ass as the character wandered around a hotel room in just a pair of ripped jeans. He wondered what it would be like to have the guy pin him down, hold him on his stomach on the bed and make him take it. The idea nearly made Sam’s mouth water, especially when he let the actors face blur in his mind and changed it to Dean holding him down. Pretty soon he was lost in his fantasies, so lost he didn’t even realize he was getting hard. At least, not until Dean did.

“Uh. Sam?” Dean asked nervously, and Sam looked up with a raised brow. “You got something you wanna tell me, little brother?” Dean asked, and Sam followed Dean’s gaze to his own lap, where his cock was starting to tent his sweat pants.

“No!” Sam yelped, cheeks going red in embarrassment as he dropped his hands to cover his lap. He sat up a moment later and moved to the other side of the couch where he curled his knees up to his chest, hiding his predicament. “I-it was the chick, the swimsuit scene!” He insisted, though they both knew that scene was over twenty minutes ago, and the male hero was the only one onscreen who was currently half naked.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam, and Sam was certain he was done for, but then Dean shook his head and took another long swallow from his beer. “Whatever.” He muttered, turning his attention back to the film.

Sam sat there miserably for the rest of the movie, refusing to speak or even move in fear of embarrassing himself again. He knew better than to let his mind wander like that, but the beer had gone to his head, making him loose and lazy and the actor was just so freakin’ hot…He cursed internally, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. It wasn’t fair. If he could just control his dick he wouldn’t have this freaking problem. If he could just be straight, or at least keep his fantasies in check, this wouldn’t be a problem. A voice in his head reminded him that it wouldn’t be a big deal if Dean knew the truth, and for once he gave that thought some consideration. Sam looked back at his brother, mentally going over the same argument he’d been having with himself for days, though this time it was different. He shouldn’t tell Dean, couldn’t risk the rejection that was sure to come. But then, Dean had said he wouldn’t care either way, and Sam finally had a label for himself, and maybe Eric was right about a couple things, after all...Dean couldn’t ever know about Sam’s feelings towards him, but maybe he could know about his sexuality. It would make things a lot easier if he did, and he’d already said he didn’t care either way. Sam swallowed thickly when the credits rolled and Dean got up to change the tape, the alcohol swirling through his veins making him brave enough to finally speak.

“Dean?” Sam said, his voice soft and quiet.

Dean glanced back at his brother, pushing the last movie into the VCR and pressing play. “What’s up, Sammy?”

Sam chewed his lower lip, staring at his knees as Dean settled back on the couch. “You um…you remember a few days ago, when you…” Sam’s voice wavered, and he cleared his throat, glancing up at his brother. Dean’s full attention was on him, now, something strange shining in his brothers eyes. Sam took a deep breath. He could do this. He could confess this much to Dean, at least.

“When I what?” Dean prompted, his voice more gentle than normal.

Sam swallowed thickly. “When…. you asked if I was…. gay?” He finished, cheeks flushing red.

Dean gave him a half smile and nodded. “Yeah, Sammy, I remember. What about it?”

“Well, I…” Sam started, licking his lips nervously, “I... I kind of…. I mean…. I-I’m not. Gay, I mean. I meant that when I said it. But...I w-wasn’t exactly telling the whole truth, either….” He trained his eyes on the popcorn bowl, watching the way the light from the TV glared off the cheap blue plastic. “I like girls, but…. I like guys, too. Y’know, like, in the same way. I’m um…. I’m bisexual.” He forced his eyes back to Dean’s face and was more than a little surprised when he didn’t see any trace of rejection or disgust written there. Just understanding, kindness, and…. smugness?

“Knew it.” Dean said after a long minute, grinning and taking another pull from his beer. Sam’s jaw dropped, and he sputtered.

“Y-you didn’t know it!” Sam insisted, glaring at his brother in irritation.

“Uh, yeah, I did.” Dean said with a chuckle. “Or, correction, I didn’t know you were bi. But I knew you sure as hell weren’t straight, either.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out how this conversation had turned out so differently from anything he’d expected. “How the hell did you know that?” He snapped, wondering what he’d done or said that made Dean so damn sure of himself on this.

Dean glanced at him and snorted. “Here’s a tip, little bro. If you want people to think you’re straight, you shouldn’t leave gay porn lying next to your bed.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and his face burned red in embarrassment, all his anger draining right out of him. “W-what?”

“The dirty magazine you were hiding when we got here? I found it laying on the floor the other night when I got home. Thought it was just a playboy or something, until I picked it up.” Dean whistled lowly and tossed him a grin. “Gotta say, you’re into kinkier shit than I would have thought.”

Sam hadn’t thought it was possible to die of embarrassment before, but now he was almost certain he’d been wrong. “So that’s why it was in my nightstand? You put it there?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t about to just leave it lying out. Didn’t want you having a coronary and thinking I’d found you out or something.” Dean smirked. “The magazine wasn’t the only hint, though. Your explosion at dad was the first clue, and then there was the book. I read ‘Voices of the Lost’ last year, and it didn’t have anything in it about endangered animals. Didn’t have rainbows on the cover, either.” He pointed towards the edge of the coffee table, where Sam noticed the false cover had torn in the back and reveled the rainbow colors underneath. “I just figured it was some gay erotic novel or something.”

Sam looked down sheepishly, reaching out to grab the book and sliding the cover off it. He handed it to Dean, who took it with a raised eyebrow, reading the cover out loud.

“’The Journey Out’, huh? Well, that’s tamer than what I was expecting.” Dean tossed the book back to Sam. “Where’d you get that, anyway?”

Sam caught the book, thumbing over the pages absently. “Eric, the kid who I’ve been hanging out with. He gave it to me.” He explained, ignoring the clipped ‘Ah’ Dean gave at the mention of his friend. “So, if you knew all this stuff, how come you never confronted me about any of it?”

Dean smiled and shrugged. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. And I wasn’t wrong, was I?” 

Sam huffed out a laugh and nodded. “Guess not.” He muttered. “So, you’re cool with all this then? With me being bi?”

Dean waved a hand at him. “Dude, it makes no difference to me whether you like pussy or dick. Just as long as you’re not an idiot and you use protection.” He was quiet for a minute, taking a thoughtful sip of his beer. “By the way…you’re not…I mean, are you and that Eric kid?...”

Sam’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flamed red again. “What?! No, we’re not, I…” Sam stuttered for a moment then sighed, glancing down at the couch. “I mean, we kind of did. Once. But we didn’t go all the way or anything. Just made out and…stuff…” He looked back at Dean nervously. “We’re just friends now. It wasn’t gonna work between us, not like that.”

Dean made a noise and nodded, turning his gaze back to the TV. Sam caught a hint of something in his eyes, but it couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense for Dean to be relieved that he hadn’t slept with Eric. “Well, that’s good. You don’t need to be doing that yet, especially not with some punk who won’t treat you right.”

Sam frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s not what happened. Eric was nice, and he was real understanding about my confusion. He didn’t push me or anything, he was good to me. He wasn’t the reason it wouldn’t have worked out.”

Dean frowned, brow furrowing a little as he turned back to Sam. “What was the reason, then?”

Sam bit his lip, intending to stat silent, but the alcohol in his system had loosened his tongue a little too much, and he found himself talking in the next instant. “It was me. I... there’s someone else I’d rather be with. Eric knew that, and I didn’t want to hurt him by giving him false hope, so we decided to just stay friends.”

That seemed to grab Deans interest, as his eyes widened and became curious. “Someone else?” He asked. Sam blushed, instantly regretting opening his mouth.

“It’s nothing. There’s no chance of it ever happening between us anyway, so I really should just forget it and move on.” Sam muttered, his stomach growing uneasy at the expression spreading over Deans face. His moment of ‘wise older brother’ had ended, and he was rapidly transforming back into the pain in the ass he normally was.

“Oh, come on, Sam. Give yourself some credit. Guy or girl, they’d be lucky to have you.” Dean smirked, leaning over to elbow his brother in the side. “So, who is it? Do I know them?”

Sam swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Not telling.”

“Aww, come on, Sammy, you can tell me!” Dean grinned. “Is it a guy or a girl?”

Sam chewed his lip, shrugging. This seemed vague enough that he could answer it safely, at least. “He’s a guy.” He said.

Dean’s grin spread, and he hummed thoughtfully reaching up to stroke his chin in a dramatic, mocking gesture. “A guy, huh? Is it that nerd kid you were friends with a couple years back?”

“Who, Barry?” Sam wrinkled his nose and laughed, unable to help himself. “No, no, we were just friends. I didn’t even know I was into guys then.”

Dean made a face, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Hm. Well, it couldn’t have been any one at that school in Nevada, ‘cause we were barely there two weeks….” His eyes lit up suddenly and he snapped his fingers. “I know! It’s your soccer coach from the school in Indiana! That’s why you spent all that extra time on the field, wasn’t it?”

Sam rolled his eyes and made a gagging noise. “Dude, no. Connor was an idiot, and kind of a dick. I spent extra time on the field to _practice_.” Well, to practice and to work off some of his sexual frustration from the constant wet dreams about the very person currently mocking him, but Dean didn’t need to know that. “Just give it up, man, you’re not gonna guess and I’m not telling you his name.”

“Oh, you aren’t?” Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked, setting down his beer slowly. “That sounds like a challenge, to me, Sammy.”

Sam leaned back, all to familiar with the look on Dean’s face, but he had nowhere to go backed into the corner of the couch. Before he could blink, Dean had lunged for him, snaring him in a headlock and giving him a vicious noogie. Sam yelped and squirmed, trying to push Dean away from him, but the fighting just spurred Dean on. They twisted and grappled with each other on the couch, their movements a bit clumsy from all the beer, and the next thing Sam knew they were on the floor wrestling. They tussled back and forth, and Sam almost had Dean pinned when his brother showed a sudden burst of strength and landed Sam flat on his back, pinning his wrists above his head and holding the rest of Sam’s body down with his own. Sam struggled for several minutes, squirming and writhing under his brother in an attempt to get free. His breath caught in his throat suddenly, though, when he realized his cock was hard and aching where it was pressed against Dean’s stomach. Sam went deadly still, eyes frozen wide as his brother laughed over him.

“Ha! Growth spurts or not, I can still kick your ass, little bro.” Dean said, smirking cockily down at Sam. His smile faded slightly after a minute, though, when Sam remained frozen beneath him. “Sammy? You alright?” He asked, shifting a little above Sam before he went just as still.

Sam held his breath, able to see the moment Dean realized his predicament by the expression on his brother’s face. Dean’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open, his gaze flickering between their bodies before they returned to Sam’s face. Sam kept his eyes on the ceiling, doing his best to try and hide his panic.

“Sammy?” Dean asked, his voice far less sure than it had been a few minutes ago. When Sam didn’t respond, Dean shifted again, grinding down against Sam’s cock experimentally.

Sam couldn’t help the small moan that fell from his lips, and he closed his eyes as his cheeks burned with shame. Dean knew. He had to know. There was no other explanation for Sam getting rock hard while wrestling with his brother. Any minute now it was going to hit him, and he would get up and punch Sam in the jaw and leave and Sam would never see him again.

Dean was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was hushed, cautious. Like he was talking to a scared animal instead of his little brother. “Sammy. Am I the guy?”

Sam’s breath hitched, and a sob caught in his throat. This was it. He opened his eyes and met Deans gaze helplessly, tears leaking down his temples. “I-I’m so s-sorry….” He stuttered out, his breath hiccupping as he held back another sob. “P-please, don’t hate me…”

Dean’s gaze softened above him, and he let go of Sam’s left wrist to wipe a streak of tears from his temple. “Oh, Sam….” He murmured, then leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Sam’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I know, it's a bit of a cliffhanger! But like I said, next chapter should be coming soon, so keep a look out! I hope you guys enjoyed this, and please leave comments on what you thought! Comments and like really do make my life! Thanks for reading!


	7. Alcohol Makes You Brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter seven is here! This chapter is about 75% smut and 25% angst, and I'm honestly not certain if I should be saying 'you're welcome' or 'I'm sorry'....Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters. All other right belong to Kripke and the CW

_Dean was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was hushed, cautious. Like he was talking to a scared animal instead of his little brother. “Sammy. Am I the guy?”_

_Sam’s breath hitched, and a sob caught in his throat. He opened his eyes and met Deans gaze helplessly, tears leaking down his temples. “I-I’m so s-sorry….” He stuttered out, his breath hiccupping as he held back tears._

_Dean’s gaze softened above him, and he let go of Sam’s left wrist to wipe a streak of tears from his temple. “Oh, Sam….” He murmured, then leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Sam’s._

Throughout the entirety of the kiss, Sam remained frozen. Every cell in his body was screaming for him to move, to kiss back, but he just…couldn’t. Dean’s lips were plush and slightly chapped against his own, and Sam could taste hints of the salty/sour remains from the popcorn and beer. It was warm and gentle and everything Sam ever had hoped for, but he just couldn’t. Kiss. Back.

Dean finally pulled away a minute later, looking down at Sam with an expression that Sam couldn’t decipher if he wanted too. His wide green eyes flickered over Sam’s face, and then he started to sit up. “Shit. Sorry, I just-“

Sam managed to move, then, and he lunged up before Dean could get upright, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him down into another kiss. Dean made a noise of surprise against his lips, but Sam didn’t stop, kept kissing him even as more tears dripped down his own face. After several long minutes, he pulled away to catch his breath, panting as he looked at Dean with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” Sam said simply, and Deans lips quirked up into a small smile. He leaned in and kissed Sam again, deeper this time, and Sam couldn’t help the moan he let out when Dean’s tongue slid into his mouth. Sam’s cock throbbed between their bodies, and he squirmed eagerly, rocking up against Dean’s stomach. Dean let out a groan at the movement and shifted, and suddenly Sam felt Dean’s erection against his thigh and _holy shit_ , Dean was hard!

“Dean!” Sam cried, bucking up harder against him. He slid his hand up under Deans t-shirt, gripping tight to the smooth, damp skin as they started up a clumsy rhythm. Dean tore his mouth from Sam’s a moment later, ducking his head and starting to suck at his neck.

“God, Sam, you’re so fuckin’….” Dean trailed off on a moan, sitting upright to pull his t-shirt off and toss it away. Sam followed suit without hesitation, ripping off the old ACDC shirt as fast as he could, grunting in annoyance when his clumsy movements caused the shirt to get stuck over his head. Dean laughed, helping him out of the cotton prison, then leaned down to kiss him again, sighing as their bare chests pressed together.

“Dean….” Sam breathed against his lips, arching up into his brothers every touch. His head was swimming from beer and Dean’s kisses, and his cock was throbbing so hard he could barely stand to think. On some level, he knew they should slow down, probably talk about this, but the alcohol clouding his mind made actions much, much easier than words. Besides, Sam had waited for this moment for far too long, and he was not going to fuck it up by insisting on a chick-flick moment now. Instead he squirmed under Dean, slipping his hand into the back of Deans sweats and trying to work the fabric down his brothers legs. “Dean, wanna feel you, please…” He murmured.

Dean growled into his mouth, sucking on Sam’s tongue and making his brother whine. “Yeah, Sammy? Wanna get your hands on me?” Dean twisted his arm back, helping Sam remove his sweats before he kicked them away. Sam reached down to squeeze Deans ass and was shocked to meet bare skin instead of the cotton of Deans boxers. He moaned, and felt Dean smirk against his lips. “Me going commando turn you on, Sammy?” Dean teased, rocking his bare cock against Sam’s cloth covered crotch. “I bet it does. I can feel your dick twitching. Bet you’re gettin’ all wet for me down there, huh? Should I find out?”

Sam let out a deep groan, nodding eagerly as his cock blurted pre-come into his shorts. “Yes, fuck, please, touch me!” He pleaded, already trying to squirm out of his remaining clothes. Dean chuckled, holding Sam still and stuffing a hand down the front of his shorts.

“Fuck! Holy shit, Sam, you’re so wet, wetter than a fuckin’ girl…” Dean breathed, wrapping a hand around Sam’s cock and stroking once, twice. Sam bucked up into the touch, moaning helplessly as pleasure sparked through his body.

“Oh god, Dean, m-more, please!” Sam whined, sliding his hands up Deans back and gripping tight to his shoulders.

“More?” Dean asked, sliding his thumb over the slick head of Sam’s cock and making him whimper. “What do you want me to do, Sammy?” He leaned down, pressing his lips right against Sam’s ear as he spoke. “Wanna grind against my cock? Want me to suck you off?”

“Fuck me!” Sam gasped suddenly, nails digging into Deans shoulder’s. “Please, De’n, want you to fuck me….”

Dean stopped breathing above him, and Sam forced his eyes open, worry twisting his stomach at Dean’s shocked expression. “Sammy, are you sure?” Dean asked, voice hushed and hesitant.

Sam nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Dean. Please, want you inside me…”

Dean swallowed audibly, nodding his head. “Okay. Okay. We’ll do it.” He said, leaning down and kissing Sam again, more gently this time. “But not here, not on the floor, baby. Let’s go to bed.”

Sam let out a soft whimper when Dean called him ‘baby’, the pet name murmured in his brother’s gentle tone making him melt. Dean climbed unsteadily to his feet and helped Sam up a moment later, and they made their way to their bedroom. It took them quite awhile to get there, since they couldn’t quite manage to take their hands, or lips, off one another. Sam stopped them before they got to the hallway to pull Dean in for a deep, slow kiss, and Dean stopped them again just outside their room to push Sam against the wall, grinding against him for a moment before he placed his hands just under Sam’s ass and lifted. Sam yelped and laughed, wrapping his limbs around Dean’s body tightly and kissing him again as Dean carried him into their room. They toppled onto Dean’s bed a moment later, both of them rolling until Sam was on his back and Dean was hovering over him. Dean crawled to his knees, smiling brightly down at Sam as he pulled off Sam’s sweats and boxers and tossed them to the corner of the room.  Sam pulled Dean back down by the back of the neck, crushing their mouths together as he spread his legs.

“C’mon, Dean, touch me…” Sam whimpered, rolling his hips up against Dean’s. Dean made a noise and pulled away, shaking his head.

“Not yet, need some things, first.” Dean muttered, crawling off the bed with visible reluctance. Sam sat up on his elbows, watching curiously as Dean went to his duffel bag, digging through it for a moment before pulling out the bottle of lube and a condom. Sam swallowed thickly, reality setting in as Dean crawled back over him. This was really happening. They were gonna do this.

Dean dropped the condom next to Sam’s head, then popped the cap on the lube, drizzling a generous amount on his fingers. He leaned down to hover over Sam, kissing him sweetly while his hand dropped between Sam’s legs.

“Just breathe for me, sweetheart…” Dean purred, “Not gonna hurt you, I promise.” He slipped a single finger in easily, and Sam let out a low moan. Dean’s fingers were thicker than his own, but he took the first finger with ease, barely any stretch or burn to his hole, just pure pleasure. It felt so good, Sam almost missed the shocked look on Dean’s face when he started to pump his finger back and forth. “What the hell?...”

Sam’s face turned red as he realized why Dean was so surprised. “I um…. when I was in the shower earlier, I kinda…borrowed your lube so I could, y’know, while I was…” Sam made the motion for jerking off, and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“Holy _fuck_.” Dean groaned brokenly, a strange haze glassing over his eyes before he dropped his head onto Sam’s shoulder. “Christ, Sammy, you’re gonna kill me, I swear…” He took a few deep breaths, then slipped a second finger into Sam, the action causing another moan to fall from Sam’s lips. “You really fingered yourself open in shower this morning? What were you thinkin’ ‘bout, Sammy?”

Sam whined, rocking himself down on Dean’s fingers as they stretched him wide. “Y-you. Your hands, mouth, cock…wanted it all so bad, Dean…”

Dean groaned, sucking at a spot just behind Sam’s ear. “Yeah? You got yourself all messy and open just thinkin’ ‘bout me?” He breathed, “How many fingers did you fit, little brother?”

Sam cried out as Dean punctuated his sentence with a hard, quick thrust of his hand, causing Sam’s back to arch and his cock to blurt pre-come all over his stomach. “T-three!” He gasped, his hips struggling to keep up with Dean’s quick, uneven pace.

“Three?” Dean asked, moving his lips back to Sam’s. “That takes practice. You fucked your ass before, Sammy? Got your fingers all wet, slid ‘em up into this tight hole of yours, fucked yourself stupid on ‘em?”

“Oh, god, yes!” Sam moaned, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as Dean crooked his fingers up and rubbed ruthlessly at his prostate. His cock jerked and drooled, and every muscle in his body tensed as he tried to get away from the pleasure and get more of it at the same time. Sam felt his brother slip in a third finger, and he let out a wordless cry of frustration, his body too wound up to take this teasing much longer. “Please, Dean, please, just fuck me! Need it, De’n, need you, please, please, please!” He begged, looking up at his brother with an expression of pure desperation.

Dean seemed to sober a bit at Sam’s plea, the haze leaving his eyes and his motions slowing, becoming gentler. “Okay, Sammy, okay. Just hold on a sec, alright?” He murmured, kissing Sam sweetly. He stretched Sam wide on three fingers a few more times to make sure he was prepped enough, hushing each of Sam’s whimpers with another kiss. Satisfied, Dean removed his fingers and sat up on his knees, reaching for the condom and tearing open the foil packet before slipping the latex over his cock. He gave Sam a soft smile, then squeezed his hip.

“Roll over for me, baby, okay?” Dean murmured.

Sam frowned, shaking his head. “I wanna see your face.” He complained. The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched, threatening to turn into a grin.

“It’ll be easier for you on your stomach. Less likely to hurt. And I don’t want to hurt you.” Dean squeezed Sam’s hip again, nodding his head to the side. “Come on, roll over.”

Sam pouted, but did as Dean said, taking the pillow from above his head and stuffing it under his hips to prop himself up. He heard the cap on the lube pop open again, and the wet noises of Dean slicking up his cock. Deans left hand slid over his shoulder a second later, trailing down Sam’s left arm until their hands were intertwined. Sam could feel Dean’s other hand against his ass, holding his cock in place.

“Breathe, Sammy. Just relax, okay? I’m gonna go real slow.” Dean murmured, and Sam let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, forcing his body to relax against the bed. He felt the blunt head of Dean’s cock against his ass a moment later, and he bit his lip, closing his eyes as Dean began to push in. The stretch was intense, more so than he had anticipated, and the sudden burn he felt at his hole made him cry out quietly in surprise. Dean hushed him gently, pausing until Sam’s breathing returned to normal before he began to push in again. Dean never managed to make it more than an inch or so at a time before Sam started tensing up again, but true to his word Dean took things slowly, each time waiting patiently for Sam to relax before he moved. It took several minutes, but finally Dean was seated fully inside Sam, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. Starting to adjust to the new sensation, Sam rocked his hips back and gasped, the feeling of Dean’s entire cock nestled in his guts making his hole spasm and his cock leak. Above him, Dean grunted, and for the first time Sam noticed that his brother was shaking above him.

“Dean? You okay?” Sam asked, voice unsteady. Dean groaned.

“You’re so fucking _tight_.” He hissed in Sam’s ear, and Sam felt Dean’s hips twitch, pushing his cock ever so slightly deeper. “Please, tell me I can move…”

“Move.” Sam murmured, and Dean didn’t hesitate another second, pulling nearly all the way out of Sam before pushing back in quick and hard. Sam let out a guttural moan, his cock throbbing against his stomach as Dean set a steady rhythm. His brother’s thick cock pounding into him was better than anything Sam had ever dreamed of. Sam moaned and writhed and blurted out nonsense pleas, doing his best to match Dean’s pace with the rolling of his own hips. Dean, for his part, was much quieter. For as talkative as he’d been earlier, he didn’t say a word now, just groaned against Sam’s shoulder with every other thrust, the sound gut-deep and primal.

It was amazing, every movement sending a burst of pleasure through Sam’s body. He wanted it to last forever. However, the reality that they were two teenage boys soon set in, and within a handful of minutes Sam felt his orgasm start to build, the muscles in his stomach tightening as his ass clenched around Deans cock. His brother shifted the angle suddenly, and the change caused him to slam directly into Sam’s prostate on each thrust. Just like that, he was done for. Sam let out a hoarse cry, his hands fisting the sheets as his cock spurted onto the pillow beneath him and his ass tightened like a vice around Deans cock. Pleasure exploded in his skull and his vision went white for a moment, his entire world shrinking down to the place where him and Dean were joined. When it was over, Sam collapsed against the bed, and felt his brothers thrusts stutter behind him. Suddenly, Dean’s voice was in his ear.

“Did you just?...” Dean panted, and Sam felt the hand not intertwined with his own wriggle under his stomach to feel the wetness there. “Holy shit, you did. You fuckin’ came on my cock. Not a fuckin’ hand on you, oh _fuck_ -!”

Deans hips snapped against Sam’s twice more before Dean went still, letting out a final moan as he shivered through his own orgasm. He rolled off Sam a few minutes later, flopping down next to him and panting as he tried to catch his breath. Sam turned his head, watching as Dean got rid of the condom and pulled the sheets over them both before closing his eyes. He smiled, scooting closer until he was tucked against Dean’s side. Between the booze and the sex, they were both exhausted, and Sam could tell that Dean was moments away from unconsciousness. He knew he wasn’t much better, a heavy, satisfied weight having settled in his limbs that insisted he pass out this moment. Still, he forced himself to speak, to say the words he needed to before they fell asleep.

“Dean? I love you.”

Dean looked down at him, smiling softly, and wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders, pulling him close as he closed his eyes once again.

“Love you too, Sammy.” Dean murmured, and Sam smiled brightly, laying his head on Deans chest and allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

 

******************

 

Sunlight streamed into their bedroom, and the bright light caused Sam to groan and turn on to his back, his head pounding. Everything ached, and his stomach churned uneasily, two obvious side effects from the beer he’d drank last night. Suddenly, memories of last night came flooding back and Sam’s eyes flew open, headache be damned. Sam looked to his left, his breath catching in his throat as he saw Dean was still asleep beside him, gloriously naked. Sam beamed. Last night was _real_. He hadn’t dreamed it. He’d really confessed everything to Dean, and Dean had not only accepted him, but he…he felt the same way! They’d had sex! He’d told Sam he loved him! Sam looked back at the ceiling and covered his face with his hands, letting out a delighted giggle.

The sound seemed to wake Dean, as Sam heard him groan a moment later. He looked over just in time to see Dean blinking his eyes open, frowning at Sam as his forehead creased in confusion.

“Morning.” Sam said cheerfully. Dean’s frown deepened, and his eyes flickered first to Sam’s bare chest, and then his own. He sat up suddenly, looking frantically around the room with a look of shocked horror on his face. Uneasiness grew in Sam’s stomach, and he sat up as well, reaching out to touch Dean’s shoulder gently. “Dean? You okay?”

Dean flinched and reared back at his touch, and the look he gave Sam made Sam’s stomach drop out. “No.” Dean said firmly, shaking his head. “No, no, no…God damnit!”

“Dean?” Sam repeated, though this time his voice shook with fear. Dean turned back to him, his face awash with horror and regret.

“This…this shouldn’t have happened. I need to go.” Dean said, and was on his feet in the next instant, yanking on his jeans before Sam could blink.

“Dean, wait-“ Sam started, trying to reach out and grab Dean’s arm as his brother hastily dressed. Dean just yanked his arm away. “Come on, come back to bed, talk to me-“

“No, Sam!” Dean yelled suddenly, and the anger in his voice made Sam freeze in place. “Just…no! This shouldn’t have happened. This…this never happened, do you understand me?”

Sam felt tears prick at his eyes, and he shook his head. “Dean…”

“Never. Happened.” Dean hissed. He grabbed his shoes and left the room before Sam could respond, and hardly a minute later, Sam heard the Impala’s engine start up. He stayed there in bed, frozen in shock, while he listened to the tires screech as Dean drove away. When ten minutes passed, and Dean didn’t come back, Sam finally broke. He laid back down, wrapped himself around Dean’s pillow, and sobbed his heart out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M GONNA FIX IT! I promise! Just bear with me, and I promise there will be a happy ending eventually. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did please leave a kudos and a comment! They make me smile so very much! Next chapter is on it's way, so check back soon! Thanks for reading!


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